The house slumbered behind mauve shutters…
Although I’ve always thought the colour of the shutters on our property was grey-lavender, one of the traditional Provençal shades, it’s only now in heady springtime that I see it’s also a match for the rampant wisteria. The delicate mauve makes such a pretty counterpoint to the faded grey stones of the house and surrounding walls it seems as though it’s all part of the natural landscape.
When all the building work is finished, we’ll have to repaint the shutters and the campaign has already started to find the paint to recreate the exact hue. Our first experiments have been in “Figue Matte” (Matt Fig), which is yet another variation on a theme, and although it looks a little dark now, we're sure it will weather to the original.
There comes a moment in spring when plants and trees surge and become blowsy in the renewed heat and light, and so it is here. In our courtyard, the wisteria tangles with the branches of the olive tree and the two dance together against welcome blue skies. There’s a persistent hum as bees busy themselves in the blossoms. It isn’t always like this:
This part of
is a country of contrasts: the bone-biting cold; the golden days of heat and the violent storms; sweetness of the soft perfumes that pulse in the sun and the treacherous changes of mood. The wind is the pacemaker of the day’s rhythms, from the summer zephyrs that sustain the spirit to the savage howling of the mistral. Provence
From The Lantern
But spring is here now, and with it the sudden bursts of heat that presage summer. Wild flowers are jumping up from the grass, and we might even find marsh orchids again, alongside the columbine and Jacob’s ladder.
Time to put a table outside and have a lovely lunch of white asparagus and vinaigrette, and the freshest goat's cheese.