There's a big, sprawling park down the street from our current digs, La Ferme de cinquante. It sits along the Canal du Midi, and stretches out to a cooperative farm, with fields both fallow and cultivated. With the summer heat the grass is golden, and the creek that flows along the dirt path toward the horse corral is all but dry. This scorched, brittle landscape reminds me of my home on the Central Coast of California, and I even think I smell that same mixture of lupin, hay, and trail dust. That and the mixture of Indian summer heat make for some absorbing evening strolls.
There's a big, sprawling park down the street from our current digs, La Ferme de cinquante. It sits along the Canal du Midi, and stretches out to a cooperative farm, with fields both fallow and cultivated. With the summer heat the grass is golden, and the creek that flows along the dirt path toward the horse corral is all but dry. This scorched, brittle landscape reminds me of my home on the Central Coast of California, and I even think I smell that same mixture of lupin, hay, and trail dust. That and the mixture of Indian summer heat make for some absorbing evening strolls.
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