La mare.
May 14 2006
When I come across those scenes that seem to have inspired the folk tales I have read in my romantic teenage years, it suddenly makes sense to me to have wanted out of my hometown on the Mediterranean, left behind its air static under the same drenching sun, to now walk wooded, shaded paths in the heights, up north.
Provence had been designed to suit the heart of a girl who had not been destined to grow up seeing slim, gigantic palm trees elevate themselves out of moist, red dirt. But it was then, and this is now.
I'd like to have an erratic course of life. Given how mine has started, I shouldn't settle for anything less.
Provence had been designed to suit the heart of a girl who had not been destined to grow up seeing slim, gigantic palm trees elevate themselves out of moist, red dirt. But it was then, and this is now.
I'd like to have an erratic course of life. Given how mine has started, I shouldn't settle for anything less.