Sunday, February 19, 2017

Inexplicable dignity.

A dead fox under a tree at the side of the road. It’s sitting upright on its haunches, head resting on the tree trunk. Eyes closed as if it's just fallen asleep. No sign of blood so it was probably given a glancing blow by a speeding car and somehow made it here. The coat still bright so it must have happened recently.  I’m worried what the PONs will do but they stand and observe it quietly, almost reverentially. Across generations of PONs I’ve noted this inexplicable dignity in the presence of death. A kind of canine salute to a fellow traveler ?

We walk for forty five minutes. Sabbath traffic. No cars. No motorbikes. No people. Bob races ahead. Sophie sticks by my side. City folk think the countryside is quiet but this morning woodpeckers, Jays, Owls, Redstarts, a variety of Finches and a thousand lowly Sparrows sing, screech and peck away.

The fancy bakers seems to have got himself into a spiral of raising prices and then seeing his custom decline. Eclairs which used to be the equivalent of $2.20 have now risen to $3.50. This seems steep to me. He's pricing himself out of business. The variety of products slowly shrinking.

Outside, by the covered market , we detour past two sleeping dogs. They belong to the beggar who opens the door in return for a fifty cent coin. Bob is keen to rush over and say hello but is 'encouraged' back to the car.

Over the valley a strange sight.  A weirdly shaped cloud with strands that hang like udders from the sky. Contrails or the effect of high level winds ? Perhaps a combination of the two ?

A Sunday morning in deepest France profonde. Things too little and uneventful for a diary but too real to go completely unrecorded.

If only all banks were as subtle in their advertising :


  1. Hmm. Maybe the fancy baker needs to take a course in economics.
    That is probably one of the best ever flash mobs, love it.

  2. Oh dear, if the fancy bakers goes out of business, what will we have to feast our eyes on and broaden our waistlines - without so much as a crumb passing our lips? Where will the future slivers of croissant or pastry come from, for two hungry PONs? The poor fox - now you have me worried - what will happen to his carcass..

  3. Forty five minutes of heaven before returning to economic realities.

  4. A lovely Sunday morning to all at the ROF.
    Lots of weird cloud formations are being seen the world over...conspiracy theorists believe we are messing with our weather too much.
    Angus thank you for posting that lovely flash mob video...a really great start to my Sunday morning.

  5. I suppose the cost in both time and money it takes to make a high quality baked goods is reflected in the price. We pay almost as much for sugary sweet, artificially flavored, dry, prefabricated pastry from chain stores because we have no baker.
    Perhaps the little fox was stunned or unconscious.

  6. I really enjoyed the video at the start of my day, and yours seems to have started off pleasant as well.

    God-speed to the handsome fox.

  7. Condolences to the fox.
    I love the cacophony of birds in the mornings these days.

  8. Sounds a gentle way to ease into the day...

  9. Your blue sky and sunshine are so cheering after endless days of rain on the coast of Northern California.
    The fancy baker’s products are true works of art. It must be terribly difficult to maintain such a business in this world.
    My mind has come back to the little fox all morning. Yes, may God speed.

  10. Between the little fox and Bob and Sophie paying their respects; the possibility of no more drooling over pictures of artful baked items; the two dogs asleep with their master opening the door; and the flash mob; I'm crying.