An afternoon without rain

As in England, so in France……

‘Whether the weather be cold, or whether the weather be hot,

We’ll weather the weather, whatever the weather, whether we like it or not.’

 Indeed.  Not cold.  Not hot.  Just wet, very wet indeed.  Just look at those floods in England, Brittany and even the Var.   We really shouldn’t complain when the worst we’ve had here is a soaking and muddy boots.  Especially when, as on Tuesday, the downpours suddenly stop, the sun comes out and dries up all the rain, and we can get out and enjoy the views.

Christine took us out on a walk  she enjoys, just up the road from her house.  It’s great for these soggy times, because it involves walking on roads so narrow they can barely be dignified as ‘single-track’ – but they are tarmacadam, and therefore mud free – and on farmyard tracks used so often that they too are in decent enough condition.  The sky was very blue: spring was in the air.

We passed Troye d’Ariège and the sheep farm we’d once visited, and then our path rose to allow us views of the Pyrenees before returning us once more to the valley floor, to la Bastide de Bousignac, and then back to her village, Saint Quentin.

Shadows lengthen as we near home.

The pollarded avenue on the road into la Bastide de Bousignac.

Reception committee from the birds as we arrive back in time for tea.

She’d made a cake.  I’d made a cake.  We put each to the test.  Hers was yoghurt and bilberry.  Mine was a pear, almond and chocolate loaf, recently posted by the deliciously greedy Teen Baker.  Which was the better one?  Malcolm and Max diplomatically cast a vote for each, and they weren’t wrong.  We all tucked in, feeling we deserved a reward after an hour or two eating up the kilometres in the warming gentle sun.

Author: margaret21

I'm retired and live in North Yorkshire, where I walk , write, volunteer and travel as often as I can. View all posts by margaret21