Time Marching

Longest daylight day--la Cite catches the last rays of the day

I had thought retirement might be quieter than this.  The week has been filled with events, great and small.  I sometimes am filled with a mild nostalgia because the change of seasons is so much more delineated here than it was for me in Brookings.  There are four distinct seasons here, and each brings its own light, and crops and rhythms.  

We reached our planet's tipping point.  The longest daylight filled day of the year has come and gone.  We marked it with our street party, staying our late because the light generously stayed with us.  But I am always just a little triste (sad) on that day of the year, knowing the days will grow darker from now until December.  

After last weekend's chill, we have moved into the warmth of summer.  I am learning to use the shutters to block out the heat of the day while keeping the windows open to catch the stray breezes.   We enjoyed a thunderstorm--hail fell, hard and loud on the terra cotta roofs.  Some bounced through the living room windows and landed on the sofa, where it melted.  I thoroughly enjoyed the light show and the relief from the humidity it brought.

repotted gardenia has taken root and has blooms

I now have a French bank account and thus am one more step forward in putting down roots.  My plants have developed their root systems in their new pots and are growing and healthy.  My gardenia has two blooms and more buds.  

There is a sense of an ending at the market.  I think the asparagus is about over, as are the cherries.  The prices are at bargain levels--never did I think I would see Ranier cherries for under $3 a pound. The fresh peas of spring are disappearing. I suspect I bought the last of the peonies--deep red ones and showy white blooms.  I so loved the spring here this year, even the wind that came with it.

One little bloom perfumes the entire room

But now we have peaches, and nectarines, and apricots and watermelon.  My basil plant has already given me enough for vegetable lasagna and a cold cucumber-basil soup.   It's summer bounty I see in the market now.  Before I realize it, we will be harvesting grapes, and fall vegetables will be popping up.

Last peonies of the season

July is upon us. It is the high tourist time in Carcassonne--the city has concerts planned nearly every day.  There are big "names" coming to the amphitheater in La Cite, and free pocket concerts in parks here in the Bastide.  Neighbors are grilling; nearly every evening I can smell food being cooked over an outdoor fire.  I wonder if they have lightning bugs here.  My arms are proof that there are mosquitoes.

All of this feeling of "rightness" has been tempered this week by two things.  First, I have had some stunning news about my grandmother's childhood.  My sister thinks that the Divine Universe wants us to uncover this information, no matter how sad it made us.  Because indeed, the truth does set you free.  The new information gave me the nudge I needed to get the story down on paper.  My writing has been flowing almost as freely as these blogs, and for that I am grateful.

Some of the gang

The second event was the massive heart attack suffered by one of our "gang."  Joel, a former tenant at #34, is presently in the hospital here in Carcassonne and the prognosis is not good.  French law does not permit removal from life support, apparently, until three major organs have failed, no matter what the patient's directives.  Although I am not close friends with Joel and Carol, I have socialized with them on occasion.  They were in the thick of submitting all of their necessary paperwork to become permanent residents.  If this is not a testament to living now, being now, doing now, I don't know what is.  

So this week I have felt the turning of the cosmos.  I feel connected to the Earth and to things greater than myself.  Connections to the past are strong and they have propelled me to re-connect with family and with friends.  I have been overcome by nostalgia and overwhelmed with anticipation of the future.  I feel truly alive.

Summer storm brewing in the east

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