Magic

Saturday was a magic day and not just because of the perfect, almost-spring weather and blue skies that had to be created by some artist's pallet.

The marché at Ferney with its colored umbrellas and a bit of every merchandise imaginable as well as all the fruits, veggies, breads, meats, cheeses, flowers. We gave into temptation and bought white asparagus, vintage tomato, raspberry tea cake and mimosa.

Chats were exchanged with different vendors all who had perfected the radiant smile.

A trip to the library provided another meaningful conversation with the volunteer library staff, one whom I've known for years, the other new.

Then the bank in Collogny to make some payments. I stayed outside with Sherlock, who met a couple of other pooches, sniffed around the grass. His tail kept wagging.

We then completed another step in our on-going quest to find where the Shelleys along with Lord Byron lived in 1816. No trace of Frankenstein, however. I think our next stop will be to ask at the mairie.

Photo by my writing friend Jay Käy Ëss

After a really lovely day, we headed for home, but instead of staying on the straight road, he veered left and stopped at our favorite view of the Jura.

We used the benches at the top of the Knoll where Sherlock played.

A tourist boat and a few sail boats were on the lake and we could see planes coming in to land.

The Jura were covered in snow, but I was warm enough to shed my coat.

Such a sense of peace.

Such a sense of having everything in the world that I could possible want.

Man has been in the area since the beginning of time. Julius Caesar walked along the shore of the lake. I am sure Byron and the Shelleys looked at the same lake, mountains and sky. A writing friend had taken a photo from the exact spot. For a brief moment in time I shared an experience with people who lived eons ago and throughout the ages.

Another car pulled up and three teenage boys popped out and sat on the knoll's grass.

We stood up to go. I told them the bench was free.

The events may be over, but the magic of the day, is embossed in my memory.