Late last summer, after all the lavender had bloomed, we learned about a place by the water with fields of lavender. Since then, we have been planning our trip, following the weather and when the lavender was scheduled to bloom. And bloom it did, right before our anniversary. We headed down on Friday to check it out.
To get admission to the fields, you need to go to the shop. It was an open air building with freshly picked lavender hanging from the ceiling. It was as if the lovely scent was coming down to grace our senses straight from the heavens.
This painting was to die for. The owner’s wife painted it from her ‘imagination’ as she told us in her French accent.
Once in the fields, these sweetly painted beehives were just icing on the cake. After all, I went to see fields of lavender in bloom.
The bees were high on the nectar and never stayed in more than one spot for a second or two. There was just too much goodness to drink in.
Majority of the lavender were varieties of English or French, with French being my favorite. It was surreal to be in these fields I mentally associate with Provence.
We walked the fields, harvested some lavender and found a bench in the shade to take it all in.
The bunches of lavender are now hanging in the kitchen, drying out, scenting the air and serving as a darling reminder of our lavender adventure by the bay.
It’s a day that has left me dreaming of lavender. One I will not soon forget.