Friday, October 11, 2013
Hide not your talents, they for use were made. What's a sundial in the shade ?
The mornings suddenly dark and chilly. A bracing 5 degrees when Bob and Sophie head out onto the village green. Time to close the pool and turn on the radiators. The first snows already dusting the mountain passes. Winter signalling that its on the way.
Much activity ahead of the unveiling of the Algerian War memorial and the generals visit. Two large tractors arrive to cut the grass verges and trim the hedges. Workmen remove the last of the scaffolding from the church. The mayor and the man in the fluorescent yellow jacket attempt to get the organ to work. What the field mice haven't eaten, generations of pigeons have blocked . The instrument makes a herniated hissing noise. Not a hope that it can be used for the celebratory mass. The depressive physiotherapist with the accordion it will have to be.
Sophie chases a beautiful young red squirrel up into an oak tree. The squirrel stands on a branch unconcernedly chewing acorns. Sophie spends twenty minutes , head craned upwards, silently staring at the errant creature. Life in deepest France Profonde.