36.

September 19th.

It is noticeably quiet this early September. The camper vans have left the lake and campsite and only a very few people brave the water for an afternoon swim.

A little juvenile flycatcher eyes me up as I stand absolutely still near the well. It flits and curls around the smallest apple tree, taking any insects going. It is a non descript, greyish brown but with a white mark on its wing. And such a bright, big eye. Only three buzzards, the kestrel and some ravens have amused me these last few days.

Visitors have come and gone . Massive caterings then solitude again. It`s very warm but the nights have a tinge of chill. Clearest skies and no wind. Stars pristine and a few falling ones too. The trees have done really well..no losses and their roots are well down, as they have put on spurts this dampish summer; so much so that I can almost say I have privacy at last in the garden .

Today Marie predicts drizzle and it`s true the clouds are up and around the tops of the hills and there is an orange and purple look to them. Three crows are mobbing the kestrel as Marie swirls through her washing on the line and emerges swaddled in sheets and bed covers.

They`re beautifully dry now, she is saying, and she does not want them spoilt. How she hates ironing, though. I don`t tell her that I rarely iron anything.

Emile is tinkering with the tractor in the yard, swilling out the spreader and singing at the same time. He nods and talks about the coming grape harvest, in the lower valleys, how the vines have been distressed and diseased this year and that the growers , on top of everything, are really struggling. He offers me a glass of Gentian. It is bitter, thick and pollen coloured. We share the knowledge: that the large gentian grows at quite high altitudes; that its roots are astringent and have been used for centuries. Then the rain starts. A swish of wind and a blanket of cloud. The gentle downpour and the after taste of the aperitif lasts an hour or so. But in that hour I decide that I have, up to a point, been accepted by Emile.