The south of France is anything but a hardship post. As winters go, they’re the green pistes, compared with the black ones elsewhere. In fact, spring started sprouting more than a week ago. (The mimosas are exploding, as in the top photo.)
The days are getting longer and milder. The air smells doux, in all the French senses of the word: sweet, soft, mild, gentle… It’s intoxicating, making you want to fill your lungs again and again. It’s been mild enough that we can open the windows and let the perfume in the house (in addition to the daily airing that all good French people perform every morning, kind of the opposite of hygge). Snow is an hour away, if we want it, in abundance.
The bees are buzzing, the butterlies are fluttering. The weeds are invading.
The majestic plane trees are still bare. They look like tortured sculptures, though the trunks of some remind me of the trunks of elephants. 
The trees in the woods don’t yet have leaves, but greenery persists throughout winter here.
The river is robust, neither threatening nor dry. 
The baby grass is so tender. I just wanted to stay and stroke it (I did partake for a few minutes, but resisted the urge to take off my shoes and feel it between my toes, too).
Secret worlds come to life.
Welcome, spring.
Please check out Daily Plate of Crazy, who also has musings today on midwinter madness.
Taste of France 
Our neighbour’s apricot tree is all set to burst its buds into pale pink blossom. It’s still utterly squishy and drizzling in the Touraine though.
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The last photo is of an apricot tree. Last year, a one-night frost in April killed all the fruit. I hope that doesn’t happen this year.
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Seeing these images and hearing your lovely words soothes my soul. And that sweet, soft air… I remember it so well. A balm for the spirit. Je te remercie.
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It’s funny how the perfume of the air changes in springtime.
Thank you also for your post on survival tactics!
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How lovely you get to experience this when it is still winter – doux!
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Winter here lasts from Dec. 1 to Feb. 1. Can’t complain. Spring sometimes outwears its welcome, but, even then it isn’t too rough. We had gray skies and rain this morning, but now the sun is out.
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That grass soinds and looks inviting. I would’ve squished my toes! Be brave! 😇
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Maybe I will this afternoon!
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Early signs of spring are here, too. Red buds and maple trees are blooming along with daffodils and forsythia and weeds are definitely sprouting. Now if we could just get some sunshine.
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It has been wet here, too, but at least no floods. And since our summers are bone dry, we are happy to fill up when rain does come.
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Beautiful! Here we won’t see any of that for a couple of months.
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Well, I hope this helps you get through. A light at the end of the tunnel.
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Yes, I can feel the rays of the sun getting warmer, our daffodils are up, but not open yet….soon…I would love to be able to open the windows, but not quite yet. The good thing is we have an air exchange, so that there is always fresh air coming in and stale air going out.
Ali
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Oh, if I ever have a house to redo again, I’m going to put in one of those. We have one in our AirBnB rentals.
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Gorgeous images!! I suspect that our climate in LA isn’t too different, though we’re sliding back into a drought, and the hills (and some yards) are still dry and brown.
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LA is a lot farther south. We’re at the approximately same latitude as Toronto, Boise, Sioux Falls…we are warmed by the Mediterranean. Like California, we also fear drought. Summers are hot and dry (and very comfortable), and wild fires break out, though not as huge as in California. I hope you get to visit some day!
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Beautiful! After back to back freezes that hardly ever haunt this part of the world, our yard looks pretty dilapidated. Just as well, I dislike everything except the baby boxwood, which are about the only things that survived. Spring is looking expensive but much more attractive, gratefully.
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I LOVE boxwood. A pest took all of ours (my topiaries!) as well as those in the parks. So sad to see the bare skeletons. Six or seven years ago, it froze here for a week–even during the day. A very different thing than the occasional overnight frost. Many plants died, especially palm trees, and pipes burst all over, because so much plumbing runs outside houses (with three-foot-thick stone walls of old buildings, it’s often the easiest/cheapest option). It showed just how unusual such cold is. I hope your garden rebounds in spring!
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Even here in la porte des Alpes Spring is shyly stretching and beginning to put her best foot forwards – the difference is that snow is threatened later 😉 Your pictures and evocative prose are entrancing – your post made me want to burst into some sort of Doris Day songathon (I refrained. Which is fortunate for all around me)
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The only Doris Day song I can think of is “Que Sera, Sera.” Go ahead and belt out some songs!
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Funny you should say that … it may be time for me to tell a story prompted by your making that remark 😉
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I love your stories! Can’t wait!
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Far too kind 😊
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We live in such a wonderful region – there’s something flowering all through the year!!
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It sure helps make winter go by.
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