Archive for July 2nd, 2010

Three days have brought me a vast array of experiences, most occurring in our quaint but graceful home.  The two older sons and parents work throughout the day, leaving Guillaume and me to ourselves for the afternoon.  Continually I’m amazing how patient he is with me and willing to help me with my French.  Apparently I am quite amusing trying to say certain things, keeping him entertained at the least.

Yesterday Guillaume and I thought a bike ride would be enjoyable in the early afternoon.  Clouds recently rolled in with the faint sound of thunder in the background encouraging such an adventure.  They family lived roughly five kilometers before moving to this house ten years ago, therefore he thought showing their old apartment to me would provide a great excursion.  Biking through the country side of southern France surrounded by old houses, a beautiful landscape and the Alps on both sides fabricated a picturesque scenery.  I was riding through a dream along a cobblestone road.  Many towns came and went with old stone houses, simple cafés and people briskly walking by.  Coming to a major road did not present a problem for we had a spacious bike lane with cars swiftly driving along.

Before reaching the apartments we rode through a neighborhood that put to shame the houses in Highlands Ranch or Glenmoore. The size of the houses were not outrageous but the quality and ascetic beauty of the structure with their surrounding gardens took my breathe away.  Leaving this neighborhood we reached an area overtaken by ten-story buildings, larger in height and width of any apartments in the states.  Guillaume shared his family use to live on the top floor overlooking the adjacent grand park with the Alps behind, absolutely beautiful.  Continuing through the park we reached a small town at the base of the Alps, overwhelmed by the beauty of this antique town.  I became lost in my thougths attempting to comprehend what was before my eyes.

Returning home we exited the town to a road crowed by encroaching trees.  Cars frequently passed, taking my focus away from the progressively ascension of the road.  Interrupted from my shortness of breathe, i stopped to see Guillaume looking at me with a large grin.  Understanding less than half of the French he said, I manage to catch “going up the mountain, not down.”  No!

The exhaustion quickly left me from the crisp breeze that ensued from descending the hill we just climbed, entering the alluring town, pasting a small school where children played outside until we reached a dirt road entering some trees.  I looked at Guillaume with an expression stating “This isn’t uphill again…”  We entered the outskirts of the forest riding parallel to rural houses on our left and the Alps to our right. I could have spent hours on this rugged road, experiencing the stereotypical picturesque scene of rural Europe once again.  An elderly man was sitting beside a small stump beside the road, his bike leaning against the tree, enjoying the cool afternoon breeze.  Recalling this experience, I beat myself for not carrying my camere.  However, reminiscing the experience brings forth more emotions than any picture could ever convey. (Of cours,e to anyone reading this it does not, so I will bring my camera from now on). I pray this simply description brings forth a peaceful yet awe-inspiring picture in your mind.

Listening to John Mayer’s “St. Patrick’s Day” creates the perfect environment to reflect upon the beauty of this place.  The tranquil yet bold beauty of this land does nothing but soothe my soul.  The purpose in which I came to this country involved learning the language.  Yet only after a few days, I know without a doubt the Lord has something greater in store for me.  This may be to see the simple beauty of this land, to encounter a slower lifestyle that accomplished less yet experiences more, to see Him in every moment of the day.  Only God knows.  For the first time, probably from living life at a slower pace, I’m content with only Him knowing.