Chamonix

     A week of my life in late May, 2013 was spent at 1,132 meters in a small town in the foot-mountains of Mont Blanc, the highest peak of the Alps at 4,810 m. The occasion was a French-Family-Reunion, the setting a heated chalet with polished wooden floors, children art walls, a living room table that underlain card games and delicious food, a swing-set that carried you to the mountain tops, the cast a network of 18 loving people who enjoy tea and charades, the weather varied from warm afternoons to days blanketed in snow.

 View of the chalet atop a tree in the backyard.

 Hello!

I forget the name of that peak. It is not Mont Blanc. 

Cheerfully storming the forest on a sunny morning.

 Coucou!

 Lunch on the deck on our last afternoon together. Many left to return to the work and school world. I was lucky enough to stay for the week with a few others. One night we even made artichokes and tortellini, so as to bring some Boston, Mari-Morris cuisine to Chamonix.

The repose in Chamonix was refreshing and lasting: I've been feeling peaceful and happy ever since :). Then again, it was a mere three weeks after France until my next vacation...

Next up: fjords and troll tongues in Norway.
I am aware of my fortune.

Much love,
Ben.