« Il y a des moments de la vie où une sorte de beauté naît de la multiplicité des ennuis qui nous assaillent. »
(There are moments in life where a kind of beauty is born of the multiplicity of troubles that beset us.)
– Marcel Proust, ‘Albertine disparue’
It seems we’re all more or less struggling to keep afloat, each of us as best we can.
First, there’s so much incertitude. There’s loss of income for so many of us, even loss of our jobs. We feel frustrated with the absurdity of this ongoing epidemic, understandably depressed from being deprived of the freedom we once knew, to enjoy some of life’s simplest pleasures like meeting friends in public or sharing a meal in a restaurant.
I know many who are deprived of being at the side of a loved one, even when they are the most fragile. One can only imagine the pain.
And death still takes it’s toll,
“In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death…”
I’m sharing some photos from the last few days. There was a long walk in the sun where I discovered an enormous rosebush, afternoon tea with my favorite crispy vanilla wafers (“Gaufres amusants,” each with a message…), and tonight’s dinner: springtime white asparagus with a sauce made of crème fraiche (asperges du Val de Loire à la crème).
Oh, and wild buttercups, a childhood favorite. You hold one under the chin of someone you love, to see the glowing yellow reflection.
Proust helps me a lot along the way, and your continued friendship, too.
