We visit a couple of hilltop villages, the first a more remote one, little known to outsiders. It is ours. We don’t have to share it with tour buses. Just the locals, a few visitors, and the occasional dog or cat.

We were here earlier in the week scouting, but there is always more to photograph. It was cloudy the other day. Today, the light is different.

I revisit two windows, happy now that the light is good for photographing them. They are so French!

The vines crawl up the wall and around the window frames. The perspective sets off the tall windows.

I don’t usually center my subject, but this time, the composition begs centering.

I also return to an archway that is beautiful today. The participant with me doesn’t notice, and I point out the different shapes. He ends up making a lovely photograph of it. This is mine.

We enjoy ourselves wandering up and down the little streets. We hear a car coming and plaster ourselves against a wall, so he can make the tight, narrow turn.

It is time to move on, and we head for another nearby village. We encourage our participants to always be looking for something interesting, something that catches the eye.

Arnie sees a small cherry orchard. The ground is littered with cherries, creating a red mat. There are occasional piles of the fruit. With the low light, it is quite a combination. I show how to home in on a bunch of cherries, shooting into the light, and isolating the fruit. I resist picking one. They look so lucious, but these are not our trees.

It is time to move on. We may miss the light in the village if we linger more. There is an artist’s opening. We look longingly at the reception fare outside.

I go in and meet the artist. We love her colors and style. It is a modern version of the impressionists. She and I talk about complementary colors, about art in the family (my mother was a painter, too), about marketing, and all things that apply to all artists.

There is a bell tower atop one of the buildings. It makes a dramatic silhouette against the evening sky. Arnie shows one person how to make it more dramatic. They are shooting with a long lens, but I decide for this last village, I will make do with one lens, just as Henri Cartier-Bresson often did. I think of my meeting with him and the fact that I think he would have approved of this shot.

The light we had hoped for at the end of the day doesn’t happen, as the sun disappears for good. No residual light. No drama. We all decide that it’s half past wine-o’clock and look for a restaurant. They are full, but looking over the wall down below, we see a charming area with several less-crowded restaurants.

We stow our gear and drive down. None of us feels like the steep climb back up. As we arrive, a man loads his dog into the cart on the back of his motorcycle. It is splendid. It is so French. We can’t let this one go unrecorded. I ask his permission. He shrugs, “Oui.” The dog is ready to go, and the men checks back at his dog to make sure everything is OK before he takes off.

We select one of the restaurants. It is inexpensive, and the aromas coming out of the kitchen are irresistable. We head inside and are not disappointed. We linger over wine and dinner and good conversation, punctuated with a lot of good humor. Once again, life is good.

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