imagine a time lapse photo of the growth of these wild teasel. wouldn’t their stems look just  like the trajectory of a volley of fireworks, rising along a wandering path into the night sky, and then exploding simultaneously? or is it just very late, and i am being fanciful? nope. tan fireworks. totally.

winter teasel

autignac, france

we had a little “what do you miss about france” conversation tonight. steve and joe both blurted out, “oysters.” then both blurted out again, “moules marinières.” almost in tandem. if i had managed to blurt faster than my two boys, i would have blurted that  i miss uninterrupted, unfragmented, unspoken-for, unquestioned, unshared, unstructured, unscheduled, and, since our return, unimaginable hours of creative play. i miss my dining room table converted to an art table, while podcasts play and i sip tea and arrange pieces of paper on other pieces of paper. in related news, today i called center point energy, healthpartners insurance network, allstate insurance, the piano tuner, our handyman, and the city of minneapolis utility billing departement. om…

mediterranean mussels

etang de thau, languedoc, france

dense thickets of wild blackberry line all the roads and ditches of southern france, and border most of the patchworked parcels of grape vines. they are impenetrable. and if you spend any time, any time at all, in the open spaces surrounding the villages, you will soon find your shins and calves covered in a fine cross hatching of scrapes and scabs. i bitch about them constantly when i am in the languedoc. and now, here i am, only one week returned to the land of lobed leaves and smooth bark, and i am already nostalgic for these damned lethal beauties. it’s like being nostalgic for wood ticks.  it makes no sense at all. but nostalgia doesn’t play fair.

wild blackberry canes

autignac, france

this is the common mallow (“wood mallow” or mauve des bois in french). it is found along vineyards and fields and roadsides in the fall in southern france, unlike its cousin the marsh mallow, which is most often found in a plastic bag near the back of the pantry behind the box of bisquick, or occasionally sandwiched between two graham crackers and a hershey bar.

common mallow/mauve sauvage/malva sylvestris

autignac, france

these leaves spent last summer soaking up the mediterranean sun in order to help grow some wine grapes that we will be tasting, in fermented form, sometime this next summer. then they spent the early fall turing these delicious shades of olive green. we are a house divided. steve would gladly give up these hues for a glass of this summer’s wine. i would gladly abstain from a glass of wine or two, in order to luxuriate in these hues.

dried grape leaves

autignac, france