As soon as Spring flings open her arms in France, I keep a look out for the first poppy. Usually I see my first red poppy along the road between our village and the main highway which is about a ten minute drive. It winds down from the foot of the mountain, along side the foot hills, through vineyards, seasonal crops, a windmill, a castle, small old olive orchards and tiled roof houses.
Yes it is a century old postcard.
When the red poppies first appear I know that within a few weeks a field of red will soon spread out its coat somewhere along the roadside.
A French tradition is that when you eat the first strawberry, or cherry, or fig, of the season you make a wish. (Of course it only works and has meaning in a country where fruits and vegetable are appreciated and grown locally, verses being imported from another place to another often out of season.) In France you will hear a French person say, "This is my first strawberry of the season, I'm going to make a wish." It is a way of honoring the season, a way to celebrate renewal, rebirth, to connects us to the past with the present.
I love to make my first Spring wish on a red poppy.
The other day I saw my first red poppy with my childhood friend Laurie.
Laurie came with her Aunt Anna and stayed with us for a few days.
As she is a artist at heart, we had many of awestruck moments in the French countryside- cause it is so dang pretty right now.
Driving in the Mountains of Saint Baume we came across a Shepard and her flock of lambs.
Laurie, her Aunt and I were pleased to catch the moment that some lambs were crossing the road.
Of course we jumped out of the car to take some photos. Laurie said, "France unexpected!"
If you are in Paris you expect to see the Eiffel Tower, if you are in Normandy you expect to see the D-Day Beaches, if you are in Lyon you expect to have a good meal, when you are in Provence you expect to see blue shutters, the Mediterranean sea and anywhere in France you expect to see cafes, chic women and a cigarette or two.
But sheep crossing the road is an unexpected surprise.
Often I am asked when is the best time to come to France.
If you want to see fields of red poppies come in May.
If you want to see rows of lavender come at the end of June first part of July.
If you want to eat at an outside cafe late at night come in August.
If you want to beat the tourist don't come in August.
If you want to go to the brocante come anytime.
If you want a tour of France come visit me now.
My friend Laurie was amazed that during her three week holiday in France, she was never served coffee in a paper cup. Like most Americans when they come to France they think the French are on one big slow paced feast. In some way they are. But as I have said before, for the French, enjoying a meal is not about eating it, it is about dining. Coffee in a paper cup? Eating on the go? Grab something to eat? Rarely in France.
France is a land full of pleasure, beauty, unexpected delights, good food, history and for me what is the absolute best (outside of my family, health and the French Brocante) is that friends and family like you come over.
Because in the end life is more beautiful when shared.
Just know that if you come to see me you will have to stand on the cliff of Cassis.
Laurie, Ben, Bonnie, Ladelle, Gene, Kathy, Ellen, My Mom and Dad, Judy, Chris, Joan, Robin, Julie, Julia, Shannon, Becky, Frank… to name a handful have.
Books, Blogs and Tidbits about France you Might Enjoy:
The Cost of Living in France by blogger LouLou. If you ever thought about living in France check out Lou-Lou's blog.
Madame Goes to Paris (a vintage clip)
Leave a Reply