Tuesday, July 22, 2008

French Provincial

Provence...the word hints of the smell of a beautiful perfume.  The smell of lavender warming in the sunshine and the sounds of birds chirping a romantic French tune.  It makes you want to stroll through the fields with a basket and a lost sense of direction.  
"Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariable excites the sensitive soul to tears."  Edgar Allan Poe

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