The mauve light across the lake heralds the day's early thunder storm in the August heat...
Meanwhile, around here, the peaceful sense of 8am summer holidays with the sound of late waking; across the road, through his portes fênetres, Stephane softly learning his guitar; the twitters, no more - of small birds around the close village houses entering the open windows.
Léoni calls Jonna, her mother. Standing in bright white teeshirt her brown curls falling about her shoulders, her brown skin broken only be her matching white smile as she calls; the little girl wants her breakfast. Her brother not to be seen. Not to be heard.
Aurèle has already left for the market. His picnic needs can only be supplied in part by some. The rest will have to wait. Perhaps the sun will come out at the lakeside beach and with it, "les filles". Fabuleuse.
And soon the rasping mechanical turning of a mozzie-like moped breaks the peace. Now a car. Soon a truck or a tractor to split the day into two. Those that work and those that do not.
Friday 1st August is a normal day here in France. Only the Swiss, or those that work there, rest a little longer, before the fun begins...
And now as I type this, the rain beats outside, the thunderstorm heaviness hitting the clover thick in the lawn, and the promise of feu d'artifices fades...
Maybe next year.
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