Scotch Broom and Blue Skies

I happen to associate home with a certain special spot in southern Vermont. Truth be told, it is technically a hill -Gilfeather Hill to be exact. It is a place where my family growoing up and myself and my own kids would visit for vacations. First, I stayed with my mom’s god mother Mavis and later with her childhood friend Carol and her husband Bob. Vermont has been a consistently happy and peaceful place for me and it feels more like home to me than the house where I grew up. When I’m there my senses are engaged sort of like they seem to be here in France. I notice the different kinds of ferns, the bird song, the sound of the brook running and smell of the air.

Pretty home and garden on my walk today.

Today, I was driving home from yoga and I had the windows rolled down because it is absolutely beautiful. The temperature was 70 degrees and the sky was robin egg’s blue. When I inhaled the fresh air it smelled of clover, daisies and fresh hay. Here, farmers have done their first haying. The grass is cut and piled in endless rows in the fields. In other fields, cows and their babies eat fastidiously while the grass is tender and abundant. Daisies poke out from all the hedge rows and the whole world here seems to be buzzing with life. Insects hum, baby animals run after their mothers, and the first show of corn seedlings has emerged in the fields.

I thought you guys might appreciate the traffic jam I encountered on my way home.

Traffic in Mayenne