Provence

I fell asleep slowly, listening to the murmur of Irish songs resonating across the streets of a sleepy town, filled with excitement of rugby and good wine. The street lamp kept twitching, evoking a spooky hint of nightly horrors, yet the screams and laughs from café below gave it a comical undertone. The Aux-en-Provence was falling asleep and so was I…

The dream transgressed into a rustled, awaken state of hurriedness….today was the day that we were to experience epicenter of Provence, the heart of the culture so engulfed in beauty and raw nature, the cradle of human creativity. I could not wait to get downstairs to the hotel lobby…but, lingered by the incredible bathroom window, with rusty frames and unclear glass parts, eluding sort of a mystical aura about the morning light. It’s unkempt and almost dangerous state; combined with smells of freshly baked bread and mopeds speeding away along the shaded street…made this window worthy of a comparison to a glimpse of heaven. This was heaven, earthy and real, dirty and fresh, picture-perfect and hidden. You could almost taste the freshly brewed coffee and see the baguettes popping up behind everyone’s tailored sleeves, perfectly arranged, yet unassuming outfits covering the petite frames and monotonous trickle of French, lingering, making you crave the sound more and more. Cigarettes, blue-eyed kids with little curls (resembling Michelangelo’s angels in the Sistine Chapel), lonely dogs searching for a lost piece of ham, birds cheering on the sunshine and … a single soul reveling in the serene atmosphere of a little French town.

This was a moment of a life-time, experienced only through books and magazine articles, dreamt of so often, it felt familiar, treasured to this day. This was pure and untamed passion for life, finally revealing itself through clear sparkles of a lonely tear…

The day progressed, running with speed of a mountain creek and with might of a Hercules. It flew by, without stopping, leaving me wanting for more. I could not fall asleep that night. I kept reliving the images of a synagogue nestled between the medieval peaks of the numerous churches, cobblestone streets, filled with multitude of sounds and smells, the blue sky, engulfing this vibrant town into a ravaged piece de resistance. My feet ached and my heart was beating slow and cool, finally at its resting pace, finally…feeling at ease. This was the corner of the Earth where I would feel full of energy and might to do it all, to live it all, to have it all…and have none. This was a place of equilibrium I so needed.

I finally fell asleep, listening to the cat’s meowing by the bathroom window and pigeons making sleepy sounds above the room. The street lamp kept twitching, evoking a spooky hint of nightly horrors, yet the mental pictures in my mind kept popping up, like perfect rays of sunshine, elusive and yet so close. The Aux-en-Provence was falling asleep and so was I…