Mon Aventure

Mid-May found me in the car, exploring the French countryside 20 minutes from Geneva.  And Lord only knows how I miss driving my car while enjoying city life instead.  When I get in my car, it still smells like it did when I used it in Florida, so I feel like I've gone halfway home without the bother of the big trip.

I was meandering back to Geneva after a lovely visit over tea with Francoise, our Pastor's wife.  The entire day was a beautiful gift from God.  Unexpected, healing conversation.  Words of Life and good fellowship on a day so sunny and beautiful it was almost bittersweet.

As if to add frosting to my already delicious cake, I stumbled across a pick-your-own strawberry farm.  This was a big deal to me.  Nearly every year since I was a child, I have always picked my own berries.  Strawberries, blueberries and occasionally raspberries.  Last year I was new in Geneva and had no idea where to find berry fields.  I looked around on the internet a bit and gave up.  The berry season came and went and I missed it.  But it was alright, because there were so many other new and wonderful experiences living in a new city and country that year.

This year I picked berries.  It happened to be Wednesday, the only weekday open for picking.  I parked my car in the dirt, grabbed a cardboard flat and headed out to the fields.

Berry picking is a restorative experience.  It's life for the body, mind and spirit.  A perfect opportunity to be quiet and absorb conversations of the day.