Breakfast! My wife stirs as I get dressed, but settles after I tell her where I’m going.
I exit our apartment into the chamber and stairs that lead to the street, paying careful attention to not spook Vincent, the bat who has taken up residence just outside the apartment door. Smart bat. It’s cool and dark in the day and just off of his nighttime feeding grounds. My wife and I have struck a bargain with Vincent; he is to take care of the bugs near the apartment, and we will do our best to not ungracefully disturb him as he slumbers. He awakes and does some lovely indoor aerobatics as he goes to his lower level area, but it’s not because we are chasing him with a broom as others have done. He appreciates that.
Outside, the air is cool as the sun has not yet risen too far above the mountain. One thing I have learned in Provence is that shade is your ally. Different from home, the temperature is in direct correlation to the amount of sun touching your skin. In the sun, hot. In the shade, delightful. At least when there is a breeze.
The village is still quiet as I walk the street to the lower portion to make my way to one of the two boulangeries to purchase the morning’s baguette. As I practice the french phrases I will need to successfully navigate the transaction I make note that there is not one, but two boulangeries in a village with a population of 1400. My block…
