The weekend calm of our pastoral suburb of Crouin was disturbed by a succession of three thunderstorms sweeping across the town of Cognac this afternoon. The storms brought squalls of heavy rain which pounded the ancient skylights in the roof above our staircase. Having moved-in less than two months ago, we’re not yet used to the origins and meanings of the creaking and groaning this old house produces for varying reasons. Therefore, the rain’s concerto against glass, wood, and stone, accompanied by claps of thunder near and far was a little disconcerting.

This morning, on the other hand, I stepped through the front door into a sunny and peaceful garden.

As I walked through the overgrown and riotous wilderness, I noticed all manners of secret wildlife.

A freshly polished young snail

A busy bee

A shy putto hiding beneath a rose that hasn’t been trimmed in ages

A parrot swinging on his perch, still with an adventurous gleam in its wooden eye, even though the poor thing lost all lacquered luster a long time ago

Returning to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, I suddenly realized: I had fallen down the rabbit hole where stuffed birds keep company with gangly giraffes.

Wishing Y’all a colorful weekend!

[Giraffe by Mordillo]