Rainy Retreat in Antraigues

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The ceaseless patter of autumn rain against the terrace has become the soundtrack to our mornings here in our village of Antraigues. 

Ensconced in our townhouse we've settled into the worn sofa by the oil stove, a steaming cup of coffee at hand and books piled high on the side table.

As the wind rustles through the changing leaves outside, we luxuriate in having nowhere to be but right here. 

These quiet hours tucked away indoors while the world dampens seem a rare gift to be unwrapped slowly. 

No distractions, just a pile of books waiting to transport us to other times and places.


The morning light fades to a dreary afternoon gloom, urging us to turn on the lamps earlier than usual. 

The warm glow from our lit candles  casts shadows across the cracking plaster walls, and the scent of simmering pot au feu, drifting in from Ritas  kitchen, hints at the pleasures of the evening meal to come.

For now, I turn the page, taking comfort in the familiar company of books and the rhythm of the soft rainfall.

The world can keep turning without us for a spell. 

All we need is here within these walls - good words, cozy refuge, and the quiet joy of unhurried minds.

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