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!
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