Today is Tuesday, I think.

We have just returned from a visit and tour at Abbaye de Senanque. If i misspell anything, I will correct it when I get home, but for now this is the best I can do. The Abbaye was begun in the 12th century and is where the lavender fields stretch out as far as you can see. Today however, it was not a sea of purple, just rounded fields of green, waving gracefully. That was OK with me. It was breathtaking as it was.

Earlier today we went to the market in Gordes. I learned that all the villages or small towns have a fountain at their center. This was for the townspeople who long ago had no running water in their homes. Anyway...the market was centered around the center fountain. Provence is unbelievably perfect, or either beautiful in its imperfections. Poppy reds and mustard yellows and cornflower blues against the gray and creams of the stone and soil.

Yesterday we had a Van Gogh day, from Arles where he painted the irises and the Yellow House to St. Remy where he was hospitalized for his mania - or was it his passion that could not be understood. Then the piece de resistance was the showing of his art against the huge stone walls in the Cathedral d'Images. It was worth every penny it took to get here.

Into the south of France this time of year comes Le Mistral. In the West they've got a name - they call the wind Maria - but here it is known as Le Mistral. And wind we have had. Right now I hear it whipping through the top of this 200 year old stone house. We have had a good bit of rain and last night a lovely thunderstorm, but today was mostly clear and mild. Except for Le Mistral.

Gotta run . . .Gotta share