Essence of Provence
Photographs by William Albert Allard
You cannot escape the mistral. It roars southward out of the valley of the Rhone River to the sea. It is strong and cold and unyielding. You hear it before it hits you: "an indeterminate noise, like a thundering waterfall or the roar of a furnace—the kind of noise you might expect to hear if a dam had broken and it was all coming your way." It brings dust devils to life, bends trees toward the ground, and creates general, random havoc with the world.
But, suddenly, it stops--leaving the landscape tousled but serene. Warm sun and blue skies return. "It is the kind of instant transformation that astonishes the senses and makes you glad to be alive. It is perfect Provence."
NGM 1995/09