We’re in the midst of a heat wave here in France. Canicule. The temperature doesn’t even drop sufficiently at night for the house to catch a breather. Fortunately, the old walls are thick and well-insulated and, yes, we make it fine in the end even without air conditioning. Dogs lie about like they’re dead. Well-watered shade plants wilt, because even in the coolth of a shadow, it’s a veritable oven. And, still, Nature offers up small gifts and reminders of things to come. Change. I’ve been saving these from our wild-flower patch which I’ll relocate next Spring. Seed pods. Many are varieties of poppy, coquelicots. The others, I can’t name. But I love their space-age packaging and the seeds which, in this heat, fall out of them willingly, some no larger than motes of dust and blacker than coal.
What is it?The Daily Cure for me is trying to smell taste touch—really experience— something, each day, that reminds me that I'm alive and, mostly, happy to be here. A small moment that should go a long way, at least in theory.