The weather here has not been exactly spring-like the last couple of days. Granted, Thursday was not bad - apart from the wind - but yesterday was grey and today is the same with occasional drifts of rain. All this has encouraged me to look elsewhere for sun and warmth.
So I have been browsing through my photo albums. And yes, I do have one or two of the traditional sort with black paper pages in which I fixed my black and white photographs with those little corner sticky things. Can't remember what they were called - and i doubt very much that they can be bought these days. Like everybody else, I used white ink with a dip pen to write the title or details below each picture. Crikey, that ink was a pain to use! The nearest semi-modern equivalent I can think of is that white paint typists used to have handy to blank out their mistakes before typing the correct character again. Tippex, we call it here in England.
But it was my digital photo albums that I was browsing and I was astonished to see that our last trip to the real south of France - Provence - was almost six years ago. It was on that trip that we spent a day in the Carmargue, the marshy land in the delta of the river Rhone, known for its black bulls, white horses and flamingos. And we saw them all.
This is one of the pictures I took that day.
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