“Our story began in the year of our Lord twenty one hundred and five at a farm in the south of France, a small stone building surrounded by vineyards and lavender fields baked by the Mediterranean sun. Our sun, the yellow one, pampered to have the firmament all to itself. In the modest garden surrounding the edifice I first saw the dirt of our promise.”
“The most fertile soil in the universe looked like the scrap pile of a brick kiln, ruddy and dusty, impossible to stabilize, incapable of holding water, so silky that it didn’t stick to the soles of our shoes. I didn’t know how dear this pitiful rubble was going to become, I was young, educated and plucky, out to conquer the world, and my challenge was not to cultivate the impossible medium but to vanquish its unyielding grit.”
She arrived in Perpignan on a clear Sunday morning carrying a backpack filled with communication gadgets and testing equipment and a couple of changes of clothes. Since there was no obvious means of transportation to the farm Sarah shrugged her shoulders and started ahead with the thought that she will get there when she got there. It wasn’t very far, though, a couple of hours of pleasant strolling through a landscape of vineyards and lavender plantings.
Laissez vous rêver.
The adventures of Terra Two started in a small city in the south of France, called Perpignan. It fired my imagination when I looked at it on the map, as it made me dream of Mediterranean seashores, vineyards, and lavender farms. I wrote about it, but I never thought I would see it in real life. Keep your dreams alive. Love, Francis.
