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Getting Creatively Lost: A Ramble Through France


A curious onlooker.

On the way back from the grotto, walking a back road, a guy pulled up in a small car. He looked familiar from my jaunt to the grotto, and turned out, he was. He said he’d seen me walk that same road in the other direction, asked where I’d gone, and expressed admiration for my spirit of adventure. Encounters like that made me feel less lonely.

That back lane also confirmed what I’d noticed before, a lovely perfume in the breeze. It wasn’t honeysuckle, though I saw it from time to time, but another plant, with white flowers. The scent was subtle, understated, but noticeable–very French. I also heard a woodpecker, for the first time in France.

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