The forecast was for rain and strong winds. Instead Easter morning dawns bright and fair. An August day in March.
The clocks went forward by an hour overnight. This morning two mallards and four accompanying females stroll across the lane in front of us. They look surprised to see anyone up and about so early . Sophie looks affronted. She gives them her most territorial glare. The bees are already out in force . The wild honeysuckle thronged with them. The sound of happy, pollen drunk bees is the sound of South West France.
The local paper has picked up on the damage to the reconstructed 16th century pottery kiln. A banner headline on the front page points to an in depth story inside. The author informs us that 'the population are dumbfounded by this incomprehensible act. Sleep no longer comes easy in this paradisaical spot '. Even the most ardent francophile would have to admit that understatement is not part of the French character.
And here to welcome in this balmy Easter morning with its promise of better things is five minutes of mysterious and beautiful music. Best listened to with the volume turned up full :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuxlGxjfh9w
Joyeuses Paques to one and all and let's hope that in a Good Friday world we find some politicians with a hint of Easter about them.