family time at the Chateau de Villars -

i loved the tiny moments
the most:





even the petanque,
played in the dark:


we kind of rolled around
in the "each otherness"
of the time.

skies of stone and forty euros worth of cheese in Perigueux -

with
foreboding skies above another
of the most beautiful villages of the Dordogne,
we entered the winding streets of Perigueux:




tim and i broke off to wander, and discovered what we needed most
from the trip:


tranquility:




there were pigeons in the plaza:


doves in the terrazzo:


and a flock of them
on the gateway to the cathedral:


we found the saints here,
hotter:


the chairs,
notter:


and more skies cast in stone:


la famille sought solace in the cafes of the second square:


we bought hot chocolat, espresso, and forty euros worth of cheese:


it was recovery.
it was preparation for the afternoon to come.

bliss after Perigueux, sunshine on skin -

post-perigeaux,
we needed a dose of sunshine,
of shimmer,
of bees in the lavender, buzzing us to sleep . . .



so we sought inspiration for our art:


we sought sun:



we sought slumber with kittens:


villars lulled us,
again.

Brantome, the abbey, three rivers, and a dream -

by now,
it feels like a dream.

i dreamt there was a place where two rivers became one . . .


a town where red was the only rule . . .


where an ancient limestone abbey,
carved into the very cliffs,
ruled over everything . . .


it was called "brantome",
and we were there . . .


the local market was full of color,
full of life,
full of foie gras!


a group of "angels" had made their return to the ground,
one step at a time . . .


we wandered through arches, and lit candles for loved ones . . .


even though there were wrestlers at the gate,


there were still saints inside.


in the end,
the bridges were the only way to leave the dream,
the only way to find . . .


each other . . .


and the way home . . .


though i woke,
knowing somehow,
we would be back.

soon.