Everyone left at camp has hidden away in their various holes to rest. I am sitting on the stairs outside and camp seems to be a ghost town. But it's really peaceful and gives me time to think.
I am so eager to start my year here in France. I am trying extremely hard to learn something new in French each day (or should I say "chaque jour"). Quite a humbling enterprise. Chaque jour I make some kind of hilarious mistake. On morning, I meant to say... "do you like..." and instead accidently professed... "I love you..." to one of the French guys. I desperately wished for the gift of invisibility after that faux-pa.
There was also the time... I asked for the camper next to me to "pass the green beans" in french. Too bad my pronunciation needs more work. Instead I asked him to "pass the alcohol, please." I guess that is not such a mistake here in France... libations flow freer... still... they got a good laugh.
I have been sitting cross legged. so the blood flow to my feet have been sufficiently thwarted... resulting in the unpleasant sensation that the French compare to a thousand ants biting you. My camera battery is also running low. So I am signing out for the afternoon... From this stone stair case... under the tree by the volleyball court, under these rocky cliffs, and alpine skyline. Love to all.
P.S. the birch leaves shimmer when the wind blows