60. Recloses, je t'aime

I only wrote of Recloses (pronounced ruh-cloze) once, though we went there many times. Louis would trade his cottage for our apartment so that he might get a weekend in Paris and we could have a weekend not there. The Larry family treated us as though we were part of them, sharing meals and adventures and birthdays and firewood.

This past weekend things worked out so that we were all there at the same time: all the Larrys, their/our friend Anna, and the lads in the cottage, Louis and Ariel, hung out for the evening so we could celebrate Shaie's 6th birthday.

Recloses, and the wonderful people we met there, was the sweetest part of coming here. It's going to be the hardest part to leave behind.

I wish, of sweet Recloses, to sing a song

and homage pay to all the joy there brought.

But sonnets just don't give me very long

to utter all the praises that I ought.

I speak of folk, not place; each gets a line:

Bright Anna, twinkling eye and smiling face;

and Ariel, who plays the uke so fine;

'twas Louis first suggested we trade space.

Shahar, entrepreneur, the oyster's grain

and Tali, lovely, mother of the pearl;

Young Shaie, from speaking mind, cannot refrain,

and Ziv, so tall now, head suffused with curl.

To give them love as much as I desire

more space than this form gives, I would require.

Nobody looks good here, but we're all together in one picture. From bottom left, going clockwise: Ariel, Ziv (tiny girl), Anna, Shahar, Tali, Louis, Megan, and some longhair (apparently balding) freak. Shaie's the only one missing...

...so she gets a pic of her own (sort of). Which she would think is entirely appropriate.