Good morning!
It’s Sunday, and we’ve come to the countryside for a bit of quiet.
After taking two trains and yesterday’s bus, we reached a pedestrian-friendly section of a bike trail that runs the 280 miles to Mont Saint-Michel. We strolled along it for a while, pausing to read the labels on each recently planted fruit tree, bush, and vine.
And then, we veered onto a dirt path that ran between fields and through patches of woods. Beyond the herd of contented cows chewing their cud in the sunshine, past the flock of contented sheep chewing their cud in the shade, we finally began to hear running water.
This is why we came, to greet the Yvette and follow her course for a while. But first, let’s stand still and let her do the talking.
“Who hears the rippling of rivers will not utterly despair of anything.”
—Henry David Thoreau
Onwards,
Clara
