I spend a week in a very small place in Lorraine, after a week in
Paris. The contrast between the biggest french city and the very
quiet village with only three hundred people is quite pleasant.
In this part of the country, the big deal, at this period of year, is
the picking of mirabelles, a golden and very sweet plum. In the
orchard in the back of my great parents' house, we have a few
mirabelliers and the plums are now perfect.
The weather is great and I spend the afternoons by reading in the
orchard a large book about Marcus Aurelius philosophy. This reading
suits remarkably well to this place.
Walking, talking, reading, cooking. Happiness is simple, in a way.
