Our house in Cordes has two windows, one up and one down. Well, that’s not exactly true. There’s also the front door, which has a panel of obscure glass, (just learned that kind of mottled glass is called “obscure”), two bathroom windows, also obscure glass, and a skylight, obscured mostly by dirt since cleaning requires climbing on the roof.
The point is, there are only two windows where you can see out.
For obvious reasons, I started taking pictures out of them the day we moved in. Sometimes I take more than one, sometimes I miss a few days or even weeks because we’re traveling, or it’s dark when I get up, or it’s raining and the view is less inviting.
I don’t keep every picture I take, either. (I probably should have done that, but it’s too late now.)
Most of the time I face directly south, looking out of the windows.
Cordes is shaped like a fish, and we are on its belly, letting us see both the sunrise and the sunset. Sometimes I lean out to catch the sun.
I like the fog that rises from the creek, l’Aurausse.
It’s green in the winter here, but we get hard frosts and once in a while a dusting of snow.
Occasionally it rains enough for the valley to flood.
The trees change color and lose their leaves in the fall.
Rainbows aren’t uncommon.
And the clouds are spectacular!
In the late spring hot air balloons start to come over Cordes.
Our cats appreciate the window sills as much as I do.
Sometimes you get incredible clouds and fog at the same time.
I took screenshots of all these pictures to post them here, so you can’t click on them individually to enlarge them. Too bad.
Maybe I’ll put them all upon Flickr so they’re more accessible.
Or maybe I won’t.
In any case, I’ll keep taking more of them.
Because the extraordinary beauty right out the window never stops amazing me.
Eve Neuhaus 