Postcards from Paris: {Un Week-end à Provence}

 

When I think of the colors associated with Thanksgiving, warm autumn tones come to mind; ochre, perhaps a neutral beige, an array or reds and oranges, and some neutral greens, an olive green perhaps. I think of fallen acorn leaves and blue, crisp skies.

That is also what I think of when I think of Provence in Fall.
This past weekend I had the chance to revisit the small village of Lacoste. It’s been 5 years since I was there with a memorable group of SCAD students. We made that medieval village our home for two months, and I find myself sentimental thinking back on those times. What was strange was stumbling upon the new set of SCAD students who turned Lacoste into their own. I was but a last minute addition to their stress and end-of-the-quarter anticipation to join friends and family back home for Thanksgiving.

Lacoste belonging to Provence and Provence belonging to the poets and writers, past and present who find themselves inspired by such golden scenery, make it a comforting escape away from the city-life in Paris. Friends back in the capital texted me to inform me of rain and lingering grey skies while I took long strolls from the Lacoste hilltop through the valley and to the top of the neighbouring village of Bonnieux.

One of my favourite parts of the weekend was the scent of smoke. Some of the vines in the valley were being burned after their harvests, and I would wake up to the smell of burning leaves. Scattered throughout the panoramic view of Provence, each morning the smoke would mix with the fog.  It was difficult to tell the difference between the two until the fog cleared and the smoke remained resonating throughout the landscape. I felt nostalgic with the lingering scent and walking along the paths I had taken five years earlier I recalled so many precious memories with dear friends. Any longing emotions I felt for a time-passed turned into appreciation for the time present and the many good friendships and experiences that have occurred since.
Now I am back in Paris and though I am sad to be so far away from my family I am grateful for small simple moments that make the present so special. I look forward to an orphan Thanksgiving with Americans and Canadians and French, pilgrims, Indians, and dear friends alike; where we can come together, count our blessings and be thankful for good company, good food, good conversations, and great memories.
I wish you all just the same, a wonderful time filled with gratitude alongside family and friends.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Bisous,
Reba