Ah, Provence...

Ah, the south of France.  Close your eyes and picture that small café, the bustling crowds at the market, the warm coffee to take the chill from the early morning.

Now, picture a blustery snowstorm, covering those tables with six inches of snow, bending the trees in a wild dance,

 and drinking hot chocolate in front of a warm fire.

Glistening pods twirl like ornaments from the plane tree in our neighbor's garden.

I viewed that snowstorm in my warm slippers.  Pictures were taken through the windows and I cuddled in my blanket with my book, The Dream of Scipio.

The cypress which reaches toward the sun in Provence---now bends, snow pulling it downward swaying in the harsh winds.

The lonely sounds of northern winds gusting tumbling snow through the air, swaying branches in its shivery roar.

Schools closed for two days in anticipation of winter's wrath.  Our street shows signs of some brave ones who walk to the boulangerie for their morning breads, head tucked low against the gale.

Lights disappeared several times leaving us enjoying the glow of candlelight.

Silence returns this morning to our village.  The winds have gone their way and the sky, still gray, offers hopes of warmer weather and -----Spring, which is on its way----soon!

I hope you are all warm and enjoying you view.

Cindy