Early Morning Rain
Yesterday I began making the garden my own, raking piles of leaves, sweating indelicately as I did so, and thinking it was still summer. As a reward for my 15 minutes of labor, these delicious treats. A moussy-soft goat cheese, a smoothly running sheep cheese that smells exactly like hugging a fluffy but none-too-clean sheep, and a lightly sweet grape apéritif wine.
Then this morning, before the 5:00 church bells, there was a sudden downpour of rain.
Now the cushions on the terrace chairs are steaming in the sunlight (oops, apparently they’re not waterproof) and the hitherto dusty garden is glowing green. Beppo is perched on the terrace dining table, up where it’s dry, paws spread wide, cleaning out bits of unaccustomed mud from between his toes. A neighbor is burning a pile of wet leaves, the thick smoke lying low under a damp sky.
If there’s anything better than rain in the night, it could only be waking up with the one you love and having
la pascade Cévenole for breakfast. Mmm, frangipane cream. Sounds like flowers, tastes like a dream.