Between the hills in Luberon
It is the kind of purple that only exists in dreams and fantasies. The kind that stretches across fields and hills. The kind that only blooms 3 weeks out of a year. The kind that you can find in Luberon in Provence.
In the middle of summer, I came to Provence in France, with the only purpose to seek for the dreamiest sea of purple I'll ever see in my life.
As we begin the day tour in Luberon, my heart paces uncontrollably. The summers are hot and the sun shines high, as if even shadows and misery have no place here. Leaving Avignon and heading towards the valleys, we drove along hillsides that once had strong-armed fortresses. How was this place ever in the midst of war and violence? This Sunday market must have witnessed countless souls passing by over decades.
The vibrancy of fresh markets never has and never will cease to stun me in the most beautiful way. Traditional hand-made cheese displayed on carts. Every corner there is an abundant rich varieties of saucisson filling straw baskets.
Fresh apricots, figs, peaches, melons and vegetables lighting the streets with the most saturated colors I could never dream to see.
I have such indescribably deep appreciation of simple things in life like this. All my senses are engaged at the same time.
Driving along the hillside, all of a sudden, our view widened to a whole valley. And not just the valley, the breathtakingly beautiful village of Gordes. Perfectly scattered along the hills, all the houses look different yet are within the same shade of sand color. Contrast against the forest green trees and deep blue sky, I still wonder till today whether that was ever real.
What comes next is the lavender field that drew me over from 4,000 miles away. Rows after rows of low bushes stretching across the entire field. Waves of sensation his me as I got out of the car, if not, the intoxicating scent of lavandin will surround you anyways, I gave up all defense and rational mindset to truly enjoy the moment, as if I fear, and I definitely did, that this moment will disappear before I could grasp every little bit.
The famed Senanque Abbey, where the purple dream all started. With the monastery in the back drop, I felt so lucky and blessed, in my lifetime, I was able to experience this in person.
The last stop before heading back to Avignon was the brick red village of Roussillon. It reminds me of sunset, of a perfect ending to something amazing. Similar to Gordes, Roussillon is also built on a hillside with all its houses in the same shade of red.
I was in awe throughout the entire day at what I saw, felt, heard and smelt. It was harmony. The one out of a million combinations to make perfection. In a chaotic and modern world we live in, everything is about speed, efficiency and progress. Here in Luberon, I wished time could stop, so that I could make every moment last forever.
