A Journey to France
This year my students and I will bid adieu to Le Vieux Couvent in Southern France, and the magical gardens created by Corinne filled with peonies, poppies, hollyhocks, sunflowers, hydrangeas, and every blossom your heart desires. Corinne and Bill are retiring, and beginning a new chapter in their lives. I’m so honored to teach the final workshop for them in October. On the last evening, after a grand finale dinner by candlelight in the stone kitchen once filled with the voices of nuns, we’ll walk arm in arm down the lane through the village, lit only by moonlight. We can stop to feed the donkeys wildflowers as we consider the past while the church bells ring in the hour. If we’re very quiet, we will hear echos from the feet of farmers and the boots of German soldiers that once moved along this same road. Don’t forget to return your torch to the basket in the cottage on the way in, so the next brave soul who ventures out under the stars will have a light for their journey. At midnight in the medieval house, hold your breath, and the ghost of Mother Superior might just open your door to bless you goodnight, to shower you with a spirit of kindness, and bid you her own fond adieu.
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
– Lewis Carroll – Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass