Oh welcome back red darlings! Your first blooms, long waited, remind me that spring has arrived, my coats and sweaters can go in the back of the closet. The temptation to surrender to days of simple living, barefoot, picnics, happiness chants to my inner child, "Come run and play!"
Fields upon little fields of poppies. Not California golden poppies, but red Provencal poppies.
Poppies are spontaneous. Their colorful petals spread out like a picnic blanket over the fields, tracing the road side and waving towards the blue Provencal sky. One can guess but never be certain where poppies will appear. Though after years of living in the countryside I have a hunch or two where they might peek out, this year Gemenos with its dry stone walls, and ancient olive trees is going to be red beautiful.
This year I saw my first red poppy on February third. I like to take note of things like that. In Provence there is a saying that says, that the first time you see or do something, in the season of the new year, you are to make a wish. First poppy, first strawberry, first home grown tomato…
Do you make your wishes on the first star at night? France doesn't limit it to the first star. Wishes are plentiful each year, when one takes note of the first of each year.
Poppies in Provence, are one of the first splashes of spring color. Later will come the cultivated colors: Purple lavender, yellow mustard and sunflowers, spring wheat, and the vines burst of tomorrows wine.
If we are lucky, we might see three most of them against the Provencal blue sky.
That is when I know you are in OZ.
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