We are staying here in Provence for a while. July and August are the hottest months. As the temperatures soar ever upwards the song of the ubiquitous cicadas, the soundtrack to the Mediterranean, becomes louder and seemingly more aggressive. Dragonflies hover uncertainly over the scented lavender fields stretching in purple uniform rows to the blue grey horizon. Red poppies flutter in drifts across the fields and the wild flowers tremble gratefully in the breeze....
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