By Beth Arnold
An ongoing series about uprooting our lives in America and moving to France. For what's happened before, see previous Jours of Our Lives entries here.
AS AZIZ DROVE us out into the Moroccan countryside, we saw many sheep with their herders; newborn lambs; donkeys carrying riders or gigantic water bottles, packages, God knows what. We stopped for cows to cross the road. Sometimes their front legs were tied together so they wouldn’t wander too far away. I felt sorry for the hobbled animals. There were no fences anywhere.
The land was covered in verdant green grass that looked woven like the carpets, with neon orange flowers as their embellishment. Omar said that in two weeks time red poppies and blooms of blue and white would add to the vibrant landscape. Vineyards spread over plains, and men and women hoed the vines with their own steam. The plethora of satellite dishes that topped every house and building—no matter how primitive—seemed out of place.