French la Vie

Hand in hand,

we skipped toward the creek's edge, a stone's throw from our home

we roamed, 

Early in the morning, racing against the soon-to-be afternoon heat,

we set forth on a quest with nature's rhythm as our guide.

 

 

 

"Have you ever seen a dragonfly?" I asked, the memories of my childhood flooding back. "When I was little, they were everywhere, along with caterpillars. Countless, they were! We had to walk on our tiptoes carefully, you know, not to squish them. Can you imagine a sidewalk teeming with brown furry caterpillars?" I said as he gazed up at me, trying to envision the scene I painted with my words. "And dragonflies perched on our shoulders!" His eyes widened with wonder, but then a shadow of fear crossed his face. "I scared of dis!" Gabriel is a shy little person when it comes to experiencing something he doesn't know; he is sweet and apprehensively sensitive to the world around him; holding my hand tightly, we meandered toward the creek, and I knew he wouldn't dare dip his toes in the water no matter how much coaxing and comforting I offered. So, on a muddy wet rock due to the rain the night before, we settled, with Gabriel in my lap, finding safety in my embrace.

"Where are the dragonflies? And the fishes?" Gabriel questioned as he panned the creek's surroundings. "We have to be very still, allowing nature to feel that we are not a threat," I whispered, encouraging him to be patient and observe. 

We sat in delicious silence together, sipping in the soothing breeze and meditative creek. Time seemed to take us in as we blended with nature's rhythm, slowly lifting its veil; Our surroundings came alive. Gabriel turned to me with the biggest silent wow expression on his face. A dragonfly landed gracefully on a nearby reed, its blue iridescent wings shimmering in the sunlight, matching the joy of Gabriel's delight.

 

(Large metallic damselfly with fluttering, butterfly-like wings.)

Gabriel's eyes lit up with awe as he marveled at the delicate creature. "Look, Vavie, a dragonfly!" he whispered excitedly. I smiled and nodded, savoring the moment of discovery and connection. "You see, Gabriel, this is the gift of being patient!"

 

 

As we sat in quiet wonder, a playful squirrel caught our attention, darting along the tree branches with lightning speed. Gabriel's eyes sparkled with delight, and he giggled, "The squirrel is fast, Vavie!" I nodded in agreement, marveling at how nature rewarded us.

"Did you know, Gabriel," I said, "that a dragonfly is also incredibly fast? Some say it can fly as swiftly as a cheetah runs!" He turned around, eyes wide with surprise, and said, "No, Vavie! That can't be true!" I chuckled and replied, "Well, nature holds surprises."

"We'll have to look it up when we go home," I suggested, and he eagerly nodded.

 

 

We headed home for lunch with full hearts and empty stomachs.

We chattered with excitement about all that came into sight.

The creek, oh how it dazzled us, a wondrous, magical place,

With awe in every word we spoke and gratitude on our faces.

"Next time, we will put our feet in the water, okay?" I asked, knowing the answer.

 

NOTE:

"According to legend, Mary Magdalene left the Holy Land and found refuge in the Massif de la Sainte-Baume to continue life as a hermit and to do penance. Her endless tears flowing freely gave birth to the Huveaune. Lucy + Jorge Orta drew inspiration from the Mary Magdalene myth to create Marie La fée de la source. Alone in the woods and kneeling over one of the Huveaune’s sources, she bestows an offering of water upon us. In the water cycle, Marie represents the moment of outpouring, when water contained in the earth suddenly bursts to the surface and becomes a source. She is a symbol of giving and sharing.

Marie La fée de la source was inaugurated on April 6, 2013, in the Martellières, Saint-Zacharie." 

 

The legends

There are many legends here, and they begin in the Paleolithic period. In Antiquity, barbaric rituals were carried out on altars in the forest. Blood flowed in large quantities, turning the moss red. The forest was formerly called Our Lady of the Waters. Water is indeed everywhere on the mountain range, and is said to be Mary-Magdalene’s tears.

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