As we sat outside with our wine and books, from the distance came a shot. Then another. And another. “La chasse” has begun. Each year at about this time, hunters may shoulder their weapons and shoot little (and big) critters in the woods. Are there sport hunters in France? Or do they just shoot for food? I prefer thinking If they kill it, they eat it. Aside from rabbits and foxes, I’m not sure what they shoot. There’s the occasional boar, of course--the “big” game sought by the most skilled (or lucky) hunter.
This morning as the sun slowly seeped into the sky, they’d already started. The cock crowed and the guns began. I presume they’re not shooting the cock, though I imagine some have thought about it. And I might not mind either.
We’ve suggested that Cindy take her walks with a bright shirt on so the hunters will see her, though the path she takes appears to be well traveled and she hasn’t yet seen any rifles—or wild animals.
After all these years of coming to France, this is the first time we’ve actually heard “la chasse” up close and personal. We have arrived!