Thierry’s view from the balcony

If it's flowers that I’m a little bit corny about, then it’s the view from his balcony that my husband is a wee bit fanatic about! He has maybe hundreds of photos taken from the same spot, all in varying seasons and times of day. Often he has the tip of his ugly old slippers showing at the bottom of the photo. He can’t sit still in the apartment for more than a couple of hours without coming out to the balcony.

He would sit on the little bamboo swing when it’s warm, or stand leaning on the balcony bars, freezing his butt off in winter. He would stare out at everything on a clear day, watch ducks play in the water on a wet day, lookout for a rainbow when the rain lets up, marvel as the sun casts a play of gold and shadow on the forest in certain afternoons, swoon at the moon and stars at night.

Whether I’m in the middle of watching a movie or doing the dishes, he would call out and ask that I come out "quick", to see how a flock of birds is swooping up and down as if of one mind, or how the sunlight doing funny things again. And if I don’t seem amazed or react quickly enough, you’ll hear a soft mumble, “Oh, you don’t care.”

He would say, “Do you hear that? That’s how silence sounds. Do you smell that? That’s the scent of nature.” He likes the apartment well enough, but it’s the view that he loves and is proud of. He says that’s what made him buy the apartment. “We have nature as our backyard. That, that’s what I love!"

Country Walks

As someone who grew-up in Manila where jeepneys and tricycles willingly stop two meters from your door at your convenience, I've never been someone big on walking. But taking walks is just one habit you necessarily pick up when you travel. Here in France they call it faire une promenade, which in my native tagalog would mean, mamasyal. When we visit Thierry's folks who live in the Champagne region, that's what we do, we take walks.

It's easy to see why folks here love this outdoor past-time. They certainly have the landscape for it. This is a field of colza, flowers that produce the oil that is widely used in french cuisine.

Being new in this country, what I find truly striking and amazing is its constantly changing natural landscape. In late spring, you see fields of vibrant yellow interrupting the lush green. Visit again a few weeks later and the yellow flowers are gone. Everywhere around you other colors catch your eye.

I try to remember to bring a camera every time we go out for a walk. It seems I want to take a picture of every new little flower I find. Last time, Thierry couldn't help but finally say, don't you have enough pictures of flowers? I was stopping every few minutes and sometimes peering into other people's yard. I have no shame, I'm just one of those corny girls who love flowers.

If it's not that, then it's the fruit that I look forward to during these walks. Yes, if you go at the right time, you just might find yourself munching cherries and raspberries from trees and shrubs just growing by the roadside. Thierry will readily reach out and pick until his hands couldn't contain anymore. A little wipe with a tissue and we would pop these sweet juicy nature's candy into our mouths and continue on walking. That does sound commonplace to you? Certainly not to me who's seen fruit like these only come from jars and swimming in syrup!

In the coming weeks and months, there will be blackberries, blueberries, hazelnuts, walnuts, apples... waiting. Like Thierry says, the countryside is a veritable green grocer for free.

Sometimes it starts to get dark by the time we turn for home.