Chemin Noir
The chemin noir/ “black path” is a trail that winds its way along the Sorgue river between Fontaine de Vaucluse and Ice sur la Sorgue in Provence, France.
I used to ride my bike there frequently in the summer months as it was a local getaway from the tourists and offered some jungle-like greenery and access to the crystal clear Sorgue River which remained at 12 degrees Celsius throughout the year.
The plunges in the turquoise water were invigorating. Over the years I had assembled a collection of white glass buttons in various sizes which I found in the river. A local man told me that perhaps there was a factory nearby in the past that dumped their old stock of buttons. Who knows? It will forever remain a mystery but every time I found a button I felt like good fortune was on my side.
The trail inevitably left my bare feet black. Iron, they said.
The chemin noir/ “black path” is a trail that winds its way along the Sorgue river between Fontaine de Vaucluse and Ice sur la Sorgue in Provence, France.
I used to ride my bike there frequently in the summer months as it was a local getaway from the tourists and offered some jungle-like greenery and access to the crystal clear Sorgue River which remained at 12 degrees Celsius throughout the year.
The plunges in the turquoise water were invigorating. Over the years I had assembled a collection of white glass buttons in various sizes which I found in the river. A local man told me that perhaps there was a factory nearby in the past that dumped their old stock of buttons. Who knows? It will forever remain a mystery but every time I found a button I felt like good fortune was on my side.
The trail inevitably left my bare feet black. Iron, they said.
The chemin noir/ “black path” is a trail that winds its way along the Sorgue river between Fontaine de Vaucluse and Ice sur la Sorgue in Provence, France.
I used to ride my bike there frequently in the summer months as it was a local getaway from the tourists and offered some jungle-like greenery and access to the crystal clear Sorgue River which remained at 12 degrees Celsius throughout the year.
The plunges in the turquoise water were invigorating. Over the years I had assembled a collection of white glass buttons in various sizes which I found in the river. A local man told me that perhaps there was a factory nearby in the past that dumped their old stock of buttons. Who knows? It will forever remain a mystery but every time I found a button I felt like good fortune was on my side.
The trail inevitably left my bare feet black. Iron, they said.
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