A long goodbye

We knew the day would come - when we would make the decision to leave France, sell our house, close down that period of time when we lived parallel lives. Originally it was a ten-year project, but things changed, and by the time we go - next spring onward, if all goes to plan - we will have been there 22 years. It's a long time! Two thirds of our married life and the only house we bought together. 

So it's been longer than we thought and we are thankful for the great privilege of living in another country (albeit a close neighbour), sharing a different way of life, speaking a different language, and there is much we will miss. 

Several things have contributed to our decision, the majority out of our control. The Covid pandemic set limits on movement, and there were two long periods where we couldn't travel, first 9 months, then 5 months, and when you have a wild acre of cider orchard an enforced absence allows nature to take over in a big way! We have never really caught up, and I have had to lower standards. A weed-free drive? Not a chance. Now too the Brexit regulations are beginning to bite, and we can't stay as long as we used to, so again controlling the garden is becoming more difficult. On top of this, we are getting older and creakier, and less willing to spend our whole time labouring; and it is becoming more expensive too to run two homes.

We've loved it, and it will be  huge wrench. But nothing lasts for ever.

Apart from friends, I will miss my trees the most. Some we planted as metre-high saplings and they are now tall, spreading and stately. Inevitably some shrubs we have lost, but others have recovered from frost and drought to flower brilliantly. I have taken lots of photos to remind me just how beautiful they are, and I share a few of them here.

Our dog Rosie has been coming to France with us since she was 9 months old, and in a couple of months she'll be 16. Here she is, looking down the drive.

A close-up of that glorious blue hydrangea. The soil is acid, so I have been able to indulge my love of azaleas and rhododendrons.

I know this beautiful tree as a redbud, but it has many names, so here's the Latin: Cercis Canadensis.

The grass just cut, shrubs in flower, definitely not a bowling green!

Fruiting pears. Over the years the ancient cider apple trees have died or fallen and been cut up for firewood, but we have panted apples, pears and plums.

Of all our trees perhaps this one, Catalpa aurea, has been the most magnificent. From a waist-high sapling to a shapely, tall tree, with golden-green, tea-plate-sized leaves in spring and clusters of delicate, pink and white, fragrant flowers in summer, it bowers over the side garden and is quite dazzling.