We went to our favourite, partly-hidden corner of the large lake at Damvillers’ Les ballastières. The fallen tree and branches, which had previously blocked it, had been cleared from the decking and left space for our picnic chairs in amongst the abundant foliage. Maybe the minerals in the water had reacted to the hot sun…we don’t know the cause but the water was even greener than it had been previously.
At times we read a page or two of our books, but mostly we were content to just enjoy the peace and watch the dragonflies, butterflies and bees flitting amongst the wild flowers at the water’s edge.
Nearby a hidden bird lazily chirruped and there was the occasional plop of fish in the lake while on the far side of the water, two coots swam.
The quiet was occasionally broken by a donkey braying very loudly from a field behind the far trees and then the gentle rustle of a very small, dark-brown creature with a long tail making his way towards us, realising that could be a mistake so did a quick u-turn back into a nettle bed and out of sight.
A few clouds looked like scribbled shorthand in the blue.
Maybe they were saying ‘time for tea’. We headed home.
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