Happy Mimosa

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Lescure has been waking up to gray skies and a continuous drizzle these first months of the year. Spring is advancing towards us and we haven’t even seen a sign of winter yet. I’ve been cooped up inside, spending long hours painting walls, oiling wooden floors. Everything feels like a chore and it’s disheartening to feel so detached from my inner flow. At night, I just hang on the couch, I don’t feel like reading or writing. We may not be having a ‘real’ winter this year, but this doesn’t mean the season hasn’t been serving up its usual dose of melancholy.

Enough self-pity already! Time to take myself of the estate.

Electric Yellow

On Saturday morning we head to St. Affrique’s weekly market. The small farmers market always cheers me up as the stalls are manned by traditional farmers and young hippies alike who offer delicious local produce and food. And today, they have a surprise in store: one of the greengrocers – the grumpy one – is selling huge bundles of yellow cheer. Freshly pruned mimosa blooms, harvested that morning in the hills and mountains outside Nice.

I waste not a moment, leave Thomas to take care of food shopping and join other customers in a long line to purchase the deliciously scented petals. The sun puts in a brief appearance and monsieur Grumpy gives me a cheerful gap-toothed smile, explaining that the pompoms will bring me joy and good luck. All cheered up, we decide to go for an extended lunch in a nice restaurant. We even make time for a photoshoot on the town’s medieval bridge.

So, here we are. Back in motion after a drought of thought. I feel light and joyful as I arrange the flowers and photograph them. Gone are the winter gloom and the negative narrative I’ve been strangling my creativity with. Never underestimate the power of flowers and a pop of colour. Trust me.










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