I ran into Lise and Eric at my local cafe a few weeks ago—running into people at the market, at the post office, and on the bike trail, is typical when you live in these little pockets of small communities. They told me they had just opened their email@example.com the season, I told them I wanted to shoot nothing but roses all of May. A few days later I got a text “can we bring you some roses?” “Non” I replied, I want to come eat first.
Today I had a warm and wonderful firstname.lastname@example.org the rainstorm that rolled in from the sweeping views off the restaurant’s terrace where the yellow roses grow. By end the of service, next to my camera bag by surprise, was a bucket of yellow roses. “But I only wanted one!” I told to Lise a gasp. She tells me that she’s happy to live in a place where new moms, like herself, are still pushing themselves and their work while supporting each other every day. 💛💛💛
I fussed around with what to do with these all afternoon and in the end, I just felt the humbleness, the simplicity, and a bit of connection to the story of food in Provence was right. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t but I can tell you one thing for sure— lunch was delicious.