Farewell of a childhood

 

Over there, in the land of the old Sheppard which goes by the name of Beauce; a place that speaks of the flatness of the hand of God more than in any other places and where the long desired gold wheat blessed by its makers grows proud year after year; I once saw beneath the moon, the dance of the windmills winking at me, whilst saying my last farewell to the fields that shall have stamped forever more my childhood…

Sophie Parou

Author 

Credit: pic by Eleva