Signs of spring

Sun and altitude
The sun has been shining for most of the past ten days and now hits my kitchen window just after 9.00 in the morning. A month ago, it didn't get there until nearly 11.00. I find that makes an enormous difference to my state of mind when I get up and think about getting bread for breakfast. It makes it a pleasure to go out and walk through the village; it also makes me want to get gardening but it's still a little early for that, although I have pruned the vine that runs over my balcony.

The reason the sun hits the front of my house earlier is that it is now higher in the sky and clears Mt Bluye, facing my house, that much sooner. As I have lived most of my life in southern England, altitude has meant little to me. Here, the ramifications are many. Even though we've had little snow in the village this winter, snow has been visible on the high ground all around since November. The higher you go, the colder its gets; that will be news to no one. What is less immediately evident is that high ground throws long shadows so, even when the temperature is a balmy 15 degrees in the village, it is still possible to find iced-up ditches in corners permanently in shadow. Even on the smaller peaks around, you can climb one side bathed in warm sunshine and find snow on the other side as soon as you go over the summit. It's a phenomenon I haven't experienced before, except in the Hindu Kush.

Boules
Fine sunny days have meant a return to boules. I need to become more consistent. On my day, I can point with the best of them (we won't discuss shooting) but there are times when I struggle for any kind of consistency.

There are normally no more than a hardy half-dozen playing but that is enough. Nous sommes les durs. The attitude of most of those who play is that, if the sky is overcast or there is a cold wind, why not leave it until the weather improves? It will surely do so within a day or two.

Pedro, the man who re-insulated my roof, told me how he came to Mollans (from Alsace) 25 years ago when he was 17 to work for a builder. He had to report for work each morning at 7.30 at the builder's house. One day he arrived to find the builder's house still closed up. When the builder eventually arrived at the door, still in pyjamas, he said: “What are you doing there?”
“I'm here for work”, said Pedro
“But it's raining”, said the builder, “We don't work when it's raining”.
I wonder what kind of a living that would get you in Alsace.

Blue skies
When the sun is shining there is often not a cloud in the sky. I'm not used to completely cloudless skies so they are still remarkable to me. More striking, however, is the depth of the blue. The shade is generally quite light during the day, more or less a Wedgwood blue; it is the depth of the colour that is striking. On summer evenings it can turn a much deeper, but still wonderful, shade. No surprise then that painters have frequently come to Provence for the quality of the light. “Le ciel est, pardessus le toit, si bleu, si calme” (Verlaine: D'une Prison).