'Bonjour' from Sophie who alerts Angus to the fact that it's almost six and it's light outside. Why waste a moment of a perfect day ? There may be C-A-T-S to chase.
We head across the village green to open up the church. The bee tree isn't yet in full bloom but it's humming merrily away. The bee tree is one of the seven auditory wonders of the world. Moses had his burning bush. The village has its humming tree.
The Old Mayor has shrunk. He's smaller and thinner. I ask him if he's alright. It seems his wife, who he refers to as 'the love of my life' was taken into the Old Folks Home yesterday. She'd got a serious urinary tract infection after her fifth hip operation and was 'confused'. She didn't know who he was.
Over the last couple of days she'd fallen out of bed four times. His wife was too heavy for him to lift so he'd had to call the Sapeurs Pompiers. The young doctor in the health centre didn't come out to the house but arranged for her to go into the home and have 24 hour care. 'We've slept together every night for sixty eight years' he tells me in that peculiarly intimate way the French do. He quietly folds in on himself and weeps . I find myself standing in the lane with my arms around this old man wishing him ' bon courage'. He doesn't think she'll come home again.
This blogger sometimes complains that nothing ever happens in this little corner of paradise - but pages are always turning and chapters opening and closing. This is a hushed history we all recognize and share.