FARANDOLE

As the sun warms the countryside of Provence, pipes and tabors summon villagers to the streets. Hand in hand, a few folk spiral and skip to the drum and flute – the farandole takes wing! Levity is their guide, breeze through their hair, a smile caught in warm light, feet finding the air. As if called by the music, flowers in the fields float free and turn sprite-like. Soon loose petals spin amongst whirling skirts and shawls, doodling their bliss and joining the dance.

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