We had dinner with our friends on Monday night, just a simple meal here at home, since they’re leaving on their six-week trip to California in the morning. We stayed in the rustic guest wing of the house for the first three nights after we arrived on Saturday, moving into the main house and our friends’ bedrooms on Tuesday morning after Charley took them to the airport. We’ve known this family now for three years, and we’re good friends with a history together. Their daughter—who’s Kelly’s age—visited us for a week in Tennessee this past spring.
On Monday night the four adults sat outside, sheltered from the growing wind by the protection of the old stone mas. The terrace has a view across the vineyards and orchards, looking up toward Bonnieux. Suddenly Bonnieux seemed to shine with light.
“It’s the magic hour,” our friend said.
It was that hour before sunset, when the light changes and softens, sharpening the outlines of villages, mountains, old stone houses, grapevines and cherry trees. What a wonderful place to be… that night, those friends, this place.
Tonight-- now on our own-- our family ventured out during the Magic Hour, an after-dinner stroll on the quiet farm lanes near the house. We walked down through the orchards on the old track that our friend says was once a Roman road, scooted down to a small paved road near a stream, circled back on a newly-marked trail through the woods, and wandered up through another orchard. We know this little part of Provence so well. All these photos from that Magic Hour walk are taken within ten minutes of our house, most of them by Kelly.
Bonnieux from the house, in that crisp light just before sunset (photo by Kelly)
The house, during the Magic Hour (photo by Kelly)
Lacoste and the Marquis' castle, across the vineyards (photo by Kelly)
A neighboring house (photo by Kelly)
We were surprised to find these rows of vines, the leaves trained across a trellis (photo by Kathy)
View of the house from the orchards (photo by Kelly)
