Mornings in Provence

Mornings in Provence are delicately quiet. When I rise at six to drive to the boulangerie in Gordes for warm croissants and pastries, our soon-to-be-hungry guests are still sound asleep, and the temperature has yet to warm enough to provoke the cicadas to stir. Once the temperature hits 28c/82f the male cicadas begin to chirp to attract females. The chirping males can be heard by females over a mile away, and any female “in the mood” responds by snapping her wings, drawing the male cicadas closer. I’ve read that male cicadas make various sounds each for a different reason, but given this is Provence, I assume most of what I hear has to do with mating!

I’m usually near the front of the line when the boulangerie opens its doors at seven, releasing a gust of warm, butter-scented air. I fill my wicker basket with croissants, savory tartlets, and a few sweet confections and return to our villa a mere two kilometers away. Upon arrival I can smell the first espressos of the morning and find two or three early risers, often those that have had the least wine the evening before. Cass and I encourage our guests to set their own schedules, always discussing the day’s activities the evening before during dinner. I usually retire by 11, often falling asleep to the sound of ongoing discussion and laughter at the outdoor dining table and wondering who might not show up for breakfast, but it’s a rare occasion not to witness full attendance gathering on the veranda adjacent to the kitchen, intrepid souls all! Warm greetings are exchanged, and rich Arabic coffee is poured while others queue for espresso or tea. Our guests survey the platters of bakery goods, ripe fruit, thinly sliced meats, cheese, yogurt, jams, and soft-boiled eggs, pile their plates high, and move to the outdoors to survey the patchwork countryside. Banter picks up, laughter from the previous night’s jokes rekindles, a few hugs are shared, and everyone decides who is going to ride with whom to the adventures that await. I’m generally a verbose person, but I find myself absorbed with observation, watching the developing friendships: who travels with whom, who sits by whom, and who dines by whom, and it’s ever-changing. Life’s greatest moments are best shared and often create lasting bonds. By now it’s 9:30 and time to head to a farmers market to select the evening’s dinner and launch our guests onto their chosen itinerary. The Provencal sun is climbing, and I’m beginning to hear the sound of a thousand horny cicadas.

Kim Salzwedel Generous Helping Founder