I realize it is very dangerous to visit northern France in June. The green lushness and watercolor sunlight blend to form a kind of elixir that can make a person start gazing at real estate ads. Apple cider and Calvados can mellow an unsuspecting visitor into captivity. Just take a walk along a country road, through gentle forests and wheat fields splashed with red poppies toward the village church steeple on a distant ridge and you may find yourself painted permanently into the landscape. That is what happened to me. I have been back in the United States for a week and I still don't want t leave French soil. Oh yes, it was much easier when there was French soil all around me and the little pile of French dirt that I brought back with me is a bit confining but I am reluctant to step away from my little village of one and into a world where memories are short and the coffee in country cafes is like water.
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