In just a few days 8.30 will be the new 7.30. The winter is dead, long live….that doesn’t work. Hurrah for the theoretical arrival of summer even if your power lines are under 10ft of snow or the rain is so intense that you could white water raft to the shops. As the celebrated druggist Samuel Taylor Coleridge so succinctly put it :”Summer has set in with its usual severity”. It’s not easy being a romantic poet when you’re an opium addict, so he had to leave it to his chum Wordsworth to do the “wandering lonely as a cloud” and the spotting of “a host of golden daffodils” on location, so to speak, whilst he remained at home getting down and dirty with an ancient mariner. So that’s the romantic movement dealt with.
I, however, on this suitably sunny day, will be involved in a little romance of my own. Later this morning I shall be photographing a christening. The new arrival is to be called Rigoletto and he – all babies in France are masculine – is the new cuvée that has been produced at a wonderful Vendéen vignoble by the name of Prieuré La Chaume. It’s not an easy job. as I said to Samuel, being a food and wine photographer in the heart of the French countryside, but I shall soldier on. I’m looking forward to wetting the baby’s head.