|Photo: Graham Hale|
|A Pigeon... in a hole... So that must make it a pigeon hole!|
Although there are proper, organised hunts, in the forests it's not all hunting pink round our way - and anyway, from what I've seen, the standard colour for the posh lot, at least in Brittany, is green. It cheers me up to think that the deer that I only caught a glimpse of, ahead of the dogs, probably got away.
One winter's morning, just after Christmas, we were out for a walk on the hour long 'hairpin walk' along the Rigole, up the valley and back and, as we were descending the hill that links the rigole to the lane beside the mighty River Oust (but more of a stream as it passes our place)... hunting horn blasts that had been very distant when we started out sounded again, but this time very close by, and as the echo died away a fox leapt from cover to our left and stood stock still looking terrified in our path. We must have seemed more of a threat than the fella with the bugle and, confused, because it ignored the open field to our right, it dodged back the way it had come. Thirty seconds later there was a volley of shotgun blasts and, by the time we got back to the house we saw one of the hunters wearing its body round his shoulders. Later still, on walk number two of the day, we passed Jean Noel's pig bin - and there was the fox's body minus its brush! Trophy or proof of death for a bounty from the Mairie, I don't know - but with all the intensive (indoor) farming that goes on in the area, they have a hard life... and an even harder death!
|When posed too long for a photo... they made a break for it!|
There have also been two old ladies who, when we got back from a sortie to the bank, LeClerc and the dechetterie, were sitting on the magic bench... They were obviously quite embarrassed and asked us if the lady who they knew had lived there, an old friend, was still at the house. They must have been really close as she had passed away at least 15 years earlier! They said that they were just out for a walk and had got tired, so thought they would look up an old friend! We offered them tea but they declined and I then asked if they would like a lift back to the village but, possibly embarrassed at being caught on the premises, they said 'non merci' to that too and wandered off. Shame. I wish I had photographed them too - that would have been brilliant.
Of humankind we have also been visited by a man in a big van full of chairs (not the usual door-to-door commodity)... "Do you need any chairs?... he asked, as casually as if he were a milkman offering a couple of pints. We didn't! "See you in a couple of years then he said as he climbed back on board. We haven't seen him since - but we still don't need any...
Earlier during our ownership of Le Roz two 'Peruvian' ladies wearing ponchos and bowler hats (that was the clue) turned up wishing to know if we had any old car batteries. Now that struck me as a cover for something a bit more sinister. I think if we hadn't been there they would have moved in and we would have found them in residence with the rest of their extended family when next arriving from St Malo.
There is no doubt that Le Roz is a charmed environment... spookily charming! I could go on...
More another day...