I heard my first cicadas the other day, a sure sign that summer has finally arrived in Provence. It was a low humming, almost undetectable, coming from an olive tree in the rear garden. The cicadas, or cigale, are a symbol of Provence and wake up every summer with the first extremely hot days and begin their song. The scratchy sound is similar to the hum of a grasshopper and is made when the cicada's flap their wings to cool off. It begins soft in the early days of summer, but as the months pass, it becomes a constant drone both night and day. You get used to it. In fact, it doesn't really seem like summer in Provence until you hear that first singing.
The heat was slow in coming this year. Most of spring and early summer was rainy and chill if not downright cold. Everyone walked around talking about the weather and saying how they had never seen anything so bizarre as November weather in May and June. Spirits were low. Fruit was going bad, exploding with too much rain or turning to mold on the tree, or in our case, on the vine.
Yes, the weather has been bad for the grapes. We are one of the lucky ones. We will not lose everything as some who walk through their vines and see only bunches of moldy grapes or no grapes at all where disease has destroyed every little green ball. It's too soon however, to say what the final outcome will be, only the passing of summer will tell.
