Hunting season

 

After an indolent morning reading, vacuuming, washing etc. and lazing in front of the sunny window we felt really we should take advantage of the weather. So…off we went up to the Séguret hills - always a winner.

As ever the light was bright, the mountains etched against the blue sky and rows of luscious grapes waiting for harvesting. In one vineyard two men were strimming between the vines! We were aghast…how can you strim among rocks and pebbles in safety? Obviously not with nylon line because that wouldn’t last more than half a second. 

The other hazard was affiché variously by a charging boar and warning signs attached to trees. 

We heard nothing though.  No bangs, no crashing in the undergrowth, no lugubrious hounds with tinkling bells round their necks. Just a solitary Patrouille plane going round the hills, ear splitting miniature warblers in the trees and the unexpected clatter of a bottle delivery truck careering along the rutted dirt track. We assumed it was empty otherwise he would have been delivering fragments.