It is a ‘magical mercredi’. As Wednesday commences, there is not a
breath of wind, and everything is glistening as spheres of dew catch
the morning light. Transformed by the rain, the grass resembles the
first growth of spring – renewal – rather than heralding Autumn.
Rosé des prés have appeared in the vegetable garden, and we enjoyed
a bolet, or cèpe, as an entrée; sliced and lightly baked in the oven,
with butter and parsley.