I wake this morning at 6:00 am to silence and light. The sky is still hazy, overcast, but as the sun begins to rise over the hill, the distant white buildings I can see across the valley from here become illuminated. Golden- almost lit, reflected on the outside. Then pink shadow extending and retreating as more of the hillside is lit. Soon the houses are entirely exposed and daylight has come.
There is still a haze over the hills and the birds begin to sing. Then the dogs bark. And the rooster crows.
I open my window to the outdoors, letting in a breath of cool, fragrant air. Again, I must connect myself to this place, must recognize we are in France, a country where I will hear the French language and where today we will hopefully walk narrow streets for our breakfast and converse with shop owners. Mom will let the words run off her tongue and expel her loud and musical laugh. I will understand much but be too scared to say anything. Dewey will arrive in the afternoon and we will enjoy each other’s company as we all just bask in this place that seems so unreal- on the top of the world. Secluded. Lush, beautiful, quaint, old, other-worldly, lived-in, lived upon, inhabited, loved.