---

Generous participation by the hat, followed by a shared meal in the garden with all the flavors and tastes you feel like bringing, the joy of meeting and/or getting together!

I leave you with a poem by the Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore:

"Where roads are made, I lose my way.
On the vast sea, in the blue of the sky, there are no marked lines. The path is hidden by the wings of birds, the fire of stars, by the flowers of different seasons.
And I ask my heart: doesn't your blood bring the knowledge of the invisible path?"

Welcome,

Dorothée Volut and Le Champ des stylos