Plume is so light that it flew away in the sky, above the cypresses. Up on its terrace, a couple admires the sun setting on the Provence. They say it rise first through the shower window. They remember it while savoring the local melon, chilling after a day hovering. In Plume, we fly, before resting in our cozy bed/nest, in the tranquility of the Mas de Cink.