Postcards from Paris: { winter's passing }

If asked who would paint this season; the time around Easter when spring has just arrived, but grey-overcast days still scatter the week with some in between fortunate days of picnic weather and soaking in the vitamin D.
It would be Édouard Vuillard, with his somber paintings of bouquets in vases against backdrops of mixed floral prints, and women in Gibson-girl hairstyles tending to children or gazing out a window.

There is a children’s song I grew up singing, and this past winter I sang in to a couple of French children who watch from time to time. It’s a simple song, and it was intended to teach them something to hum along to in English:
I looked out the window and what did I see?

  Popcorn popping on the apricot tree.

Spring has brought me such a nice surprise!

Popcorn popping right before my eyes.

I can take a handful and make a treat.

A popcorn ball that smells so sweet.

It wasn't really so, but it seemed to be

Popcorn popping on the apricot tree.

I always felt like I was singing out of tune from the season, while the tree branches were bare and there was an evident sense of winter-hibernation.
But there really is a season for all things, and moments of spring come as we patiently accept winter’s passing.  Just as I was attempting to calm the baby’s tears with popcorn popping I noticed out her bedroom window blossoms beginning to bud on the magnolia tree.

Bisous,
Reba