Invitation to Provence
“She rolled over and saw Little Blue, her eyes still shut tight. She must have been afraid in the night and come into her room. She studied her innocent face as she slept, admiring her delicate prettiness, seeing the true innocence of childhood that still lurked beneath the hard veneer that poverty had given her. She felt about her the way she did about an injured animal: she just wanted to look after her, make her well again, and heal her wounds. She vowed to do exactly that. Whatever happened,... she would always take care of her new little cousin.
Sliding from under the sheet, she walked to the window, pushed open the shutters, and looked out, astonished, on what she thought must be the very first morning God had ever made. Soft, cool, early-morning air stroked her cheek, bringing with it the scent of many flowers, and right outside the window a rare magnolia tree thrust a few perfect waxy cream blossoms to the sky. Below, a stone terrace led onto a parterre garden where tiny formal hedges of deep green box, no more than a foot high, enclosed miniature gardens of herbs and shrubs, their leaves still sparkling with last night’s rain.MoreLess
Sliding from under the sheet, she walked to the window, pushed open the shutters, and looked out, astonished, on what she thought must be the very first morning God had ever made. Soft, cool, early-morning air stroked her cheek, bringing with it the scent of many flowers, and right outside the window a rare magnolia tree thrust a few perfect waxy cream blossoms to the sky. Below, a stone terrace led onto a parterre garden where tiny formal hedges of deep green box, no more than a foot high, enclosed miniature gardens of herbs and shrubs, their leaves still sparkling with last night’s rain.MoreLess
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