There is a stone bridge on the outskirts of a nearby town, where fishermen cast their lines and friendly locals stop and ask about the morning’s catch. It is a bridge I see often in the distance from my car. On either side the water glistens, or glares, depending on the season and the time of day…
Click here to read the rest of the article on the fabulous blog, My French Life
(Visited 166 times, 1 visits today)
