If it’s Sunday, it must be Rasteau. And it was. After breakfast and another clear up we set off and did the walk. Lovely, just one or two folk, but mostly to ourselves. And the garish vine roses!
Rather alarmingly three of the ancient plane trees on the square have been beheaded! Will they be removed or will they regrow?
We sat by the bar with our apéros, a bit early! And watched a rather large black drone circling overhead. The bar owner and his mates discussed with us this latest frequent occurrence. All agreed it was worrying. But the sky was otherwise unsullied and retained its azure hue.
