Marie Duclos was thirteen years old when the spring of 1895 gently settled over her village. The hedges, still shy, were dotted with buds, and the first scents of flowers drifted through the window of the room where she sat each afternoon, her embroidery hoop resting on her knees.
Impossible to resist the charm of this delightful flower basket... Each petal seems to have been gathered at dawn, when the light still caresses the blossoms with infinite softness. Beneath your needle, spring comes to life stitch by stitch, in a tender and luminous harmony that instantly makes you... Read more