“container garden” seems a funny term for what my husband plants every time we arrive in france. he thinks of his potted herbs as the opposite of contained–a wild abundance, full of possibility, baked dense and flavorful by the high, white mediterranean sunlight, and ready to add flavor to a near infinity of possible dishes. which is why i occasionally need to call him back to earth: “honey. i just need some protein and some starch. peanuts and a hunk of baguette. maybe a slice of cheese. that’s all i need. step away from the herb garden. hands up. no sudden movements.”
collection of mediterranean herbs: basil, parsley, verbena, hyssop, rosemary, thyme
autignac, languedoc, france
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the garrigue is what we have here in southern france instead of the woods back home in minnesota. it is the classic mediterranean scrubland, and anything that doesn’t have thorns gets eaten by rabbits and hares and turtle doves and partridges and deer and wild boar. whatever they don’t eat gets left behind, and looks like this photo. layer after layer of shredding, merciless bramble. hiding, here and there, occasional tufts of thyme, and rosemary, and savory, and cistus flowers, and chicory. it is beautiful in the way that boxers and bullfighters are beautiful, beautiful in the way that rebels and soldiers are beautiful, and harley riders, and tattooed women, and rough shelled oysters, and coarse talk about love.
blackberry canes
laurens, languedoc, france
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we have arrived in autignac, and gotten our requisite 18 hours of sleep for three straight days, with each stretch of sleep corresponding slightly more closely to the actual rhythm of sun and moon in this new location, as opposed to the time of day our disoriented bodies insist it must be. as of today, we feel like citizens again. and now another 5 month adventure begins. we don’t really know what it will look like. but this passion flower hanging from an untended vine in the middle of town felt like an auspicious sign. i hope it will watch over us, and that it portends a surprising and beautiful unfolding.
passion flower
autignac, france
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If you have a plethora of time one day, you can watch the Passion Flower blossom closely. Each one blooms only for one day, but it is an intense day.Around mid day they go from actually vibrating to rest, spent. I sat through it twice.
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Such Elegance! Thank you for sharing your beautiful eyes.
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en la flor de la pasión se pueden ver varios de los atributos que caracterizan el episodio de la pasión de Cristo. Así, se puede observar la corona de espinas que le pusieron en la cabeza, los tres clavos con que fue fijado a la cruz, las cinco llagas que laceraron su cuerpo y las cuerdas con que lo ataron. El fruto pequeño y anaranjado, encierra unas semillas rojizas que se interpretan como las gotas de sangre coagulada que brotaron de las heridas del su cuerpo
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one very small pleasure about being in france is the fact that quail eggs are sold in most supermarkets. they are perfect, hard boiled, as part of an appetizer plate, and my son craves them. but mostly what they do is add their dappled beauty to a simple collation laid out on a table on a tile terrace near the end of the day. They take a small amount of effort to open, as the evening’s conversation gets underway. They are a reminder that in france the aesthetics and the mood of a meal are to be given as much consideration as the flavors of the ingredients.
quail egg
saint paul, minnesota
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So true that last sentence!!
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I just found you a little over a week ago and I am speechless and amazed and totally in~love with your work. Love your writing and photos. I will be here following you every day now. Thank you for inspiring me. xo