Every once in a while I like to wax nostalgic and this song always takes me there. It takes me to Paris and the French countryside where the leaves are turning to their rich and colorful fall wardrobe. The grape vines in the Cote du Rhone region create a patchwork as they flaunt their beauty among the olive trees.
I’m sad this fall as due to some health issues, I had to forego my yearly journey to the place that feels like home and the sweet little apartment in the medieval village that always welcomes me with open arms. The nights have turned cool and the Mistral blows frequently this time of the year, but the days are still Mediterranean warm as it kisses my face. My dear friends who live in the ancient stone house attached to the apartment where I stay are always thrilled to see me and as we visit my French returns, rusty and coarse, but understandable.
So, for this year I will let my memories take me to Venterol, and next year when the health issues are resolved, I will wing my way to Paris, take the TGV South, pick up my little Fiat and rejoice as I wind my way through the fields of grape vines and olive trees. And when I arrive I will enfold my friends in my love as they enfold me in theirs.