cones

demoiselles coiffees
Originally uploaded by ruthphillips.

The heat of this January day had us walking out to the ochre rock formations - the Demoiselles Coffees - baskets atop our shoulders and hanging at our sides to fill with cones for the fire. A gauze stole curled around the snowy top of the Ventoux which pierced the sky as we stepped lightly on the moss and red sand. Manon got all fluffed up when she espied Robert the local sleek pointillist male. We noticed he was still well endowed and, after a tempting moment contemplating the beautiful babies they would have, we changed our course. We rummaged and ramassed between the pines like two simple folk living off the land and I was filled with a desire to make bread and preserves, Since I am a pretentious musician who eats foie gras and sleeps only in Egyptian cotton sheets and not a provencal peasant, this desire will probably get no further than the romance of this page.