My plane is now just two hours out of San Francisco. Angel is asleep in her carrier under the seat in front of me. This was her fourth trip to France, a few more for me.
John left me at the airport this morning and headed north to the UK to visit friends. He’ll be in San Francisco before the holidays. I’m ready to be home but already miss my little village and the dear friends there. I feel like I have one foot in each continent and that the world is a pretty small place.
It helped to spend three days in Paris rather than facing the culture shock of my home city immediately upon leaving Abeilhan as it has given me time to adjust to city life again. During this last five months I feel much more part of the village and am bonded closer to our friends there. Life is simpler there but it feels deeper in many ways – the closeness of living so near to everyone. Things feel so familiar, the people you see each day just going about your activities of daily living. The way people just drop in, to share some conversation and usually bring you something. The day before we left Yves brought us the last tomatoes from his garden and three figs just to let us know he’d miss us. Suzette made a cake to have with coffee when I came to her place to say goodbye. Ricou dropped by with some unfamiliar fruit from his garden and I have no idea what it was.
The weather helped make me feel it was time to leave. Gray days and cool evenings, we even had a fire one night to keep warm. Things do seem much more seasonal in France than in San Francisco. The produce is always seasonal and these last weeks porcini mushroom (cepes in France), pumpkins, butternut squash, and brussel sprouts are in abundance. The vendange finally ended and this weekend the rabbit hunting season is to start.
I feel anxious to restart my San Francisco life but melancholy leaving the French one behind for awhile.