Lightness of being

Late afternoon sidelight rural France NE

We saw the light today. The grey light. The between-light. The bright light.

Grey skies blanketed the land, with rain and wind in Paris (and, we discovered later, across a wide area) as the Metro & RER took us back to CDG to corral our new steed, Clio Renault—a silver beastie, Euro-scale.

As we motored south, (after a stop at a huge upscale mall, Bay 3, to extend our data plan for the iPad so we can do our not-patented blue-dot navigation), the spitting rain lifted, and we drove into partly cloudy, then bright sun. The brilliance lit up the valley we were in so remarkably, it was like we had paid extra for the perfect timing.

Grapes green on vine Champagne

Much of our post-Paris-metro route was through small towns. One had a plaque we got enough of a glance to read that Jeanne d’Arc had been there in 1426 (if I remember correctly). It might have been this one, but I don’t think so.

Ponder this: we drove through Champagne (and did not get wet), and we dined in Dole (and ate no bananas).

One thing I have to mention because it so…surprised me, was for the first part of our post-Paris route, the rolling hills were so gently sloped, just shockingly gently. Then, as we got into Champagne, the hills were steeper, with the soil clogged with limestone chunks. They’re picking grapes now, but I think much of the crop there still has to ripen. Just terribly special to come through there at harvest-time….

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