France, the Vaucluse, 7 March 2023

We’ve been in the Vaucluse for a couple weeks. I was thinking back to when we began coming in winter, rather than in the autumn, and how one of the reasons we changed seasons was because it had been so long since we had been here for the almond trees’ blooming (when we lived in Marseille we were often here). It is almost magical: everything is dead, the farmers are trimming the vineyards and olive groves and collecting the dead branches (the vine wood is good for fires) but there isn’t much sign of vegetable life, and then, across the bare countryside in the south, the almonds trees begin to bloom, some very early, others later, so they are staggered over a month or so, their colours white and or pink, or white shading to pink as the bloom starts and end. The bees come, swarms of them, there all of a sudden one morning in a tree, and so noisy! Right now in the vacant space out back there are at least 3 almond trees in various stages of bloom. Soon other plants will begin—yesterday, biking, I noticed the wild orchids beginning. Most of the almond trees are wild, or almost; only occasionally are there orchards of them, unlike in California’s Central Valley.

Bonnard painted a flowering almond tree. It is one of my favourite paintings of his.