This is beautiful, Susie, thank you. I relate to it all (and Aveyron was a possible for us when we moved over, though we ended up back in Brittany, where my compass always pulls me).
Many kind thanks Roselle, we had a blessed weekend in so many ways. Thanks recieved and thanks given... strangely I have been thinking of Brittany recently, the distance from any sea or ocean here in the Aveyron is great, no matter which direction we take and as such greatly missed... it is not impossible that we may make one last move before we are to old to care about waves and sand and salty air!
We're still an hour from the coast here, and I try to minimise fossil-fuel use - but at least it's only an hour. I was brought up by the coast in s-w England, so like you I would miss it if deeply inland. I belong to the land here, and especially the magnificent forest I've written a book about. Plus there's water stress on the horizon further south – and even here, last summer.
But I showed your photo of your hamlet to my partner, and we both sighed - who knows, you and I might yet swap places!
Blessings to you and yours, and for your lovely writing.
I think if there is one aspect that would deter me from living closer to the coast here in France it is the possibility of too much rain, having spent 13 years in Ireland, and the weather being the main reason we left, I’d have to think very carefully before making that decision. Which is probably why we are still here after twenty years!
I’m going to nip over to your Substack as soon as I’ve fed my starving boys Roselle, meanwhile enjoy your evening and blessing to you too from another very wild and wet evening on my hill x
I so loved this journey with you and Rosie and waterfall and Hare! ♥️ Thank you! I couldn't help but feel gratitude, too, for Stove who was waiting back at home to warm you both.
Beautifully strung together. The details interwoven in the story just bring its all alive. Thank you for having us be a part of it though this wonderful remenicence.
What a cherished day. Another gift—the mother-daughter duo offering the forest generous presence. Reading this I could almost feel her gratitude for you both, returning innocence and awe as the fellers and prospectors ignore the balance. Bowing to you both for your dear relationship.
Jo, when someone says to me that I brought tears to their eyes, mine do the same in gratitude.
I write about my hill because I love every raggedy rock and and fallen tree that sits or lays upon it, as does my daughter. I love it’s wildness and all I ever want is to share that feeling... a fourth gift indeed... thank you, truly and deeply, thank you 🙏🏽 xxx
Just so beautiful Susie. It brought tears to my eyes.
Fourth gift - Being able to create the experience again and bring it to life through your words and pictures. Those hours are forever held in time by this heart opening reflection.
I love blessings, always ecstatically grateful whenever I receive them, I feel so special. Sharing them with Rosie was extra special, memories held in your hearts to be felt in the coming days and weeks. As always, you and your stories are a delightful treat which I look forward to and hope that one day you will write a story of our wandering over and around the hill. XX00
What an evocative write up, Susie. I hope the rest of your few hours with your daughter were good and free from the dangers of tree felling and rivers in spate. When will it be safe to walk on your own hill again?
Many kind thanks Miranda, it was the perfect walk, a mix of beauty and adventure which is just as we like it.
The tree falling in our path was a shock we hadn’t anticipated, we could hear the chainsaw but the acoustics on hills are deceptive, sounds that are far can seem close and like wise for the reverse. To see a tall pine falling, or any other species is one of the saddest sights to witness in nature, to see it cut purposefully to its end by human hands even more so.
As for the river, well perhaps we should have been wiser but we laughed so hard together trying to cross them/it.
My hill is still a little out of bounds, the planted crops are germinated so with care I can walk the edges but the hunters lurk continuously, hidden dots of lethal in the woods... and of course rain continues unabated so sticky mud is multiplied... if I walk right round the lane to the far north facing slopes I can reach the top more easily but this is a hike I don’t always have time for... xx
Rosie and I have walked together since she took her first steps Lisha, perhaps his is where her love comes from or perhaps it is purely heightened by living in a city.? Either way, we live for these hours together... and your day will come with your daughters very soon lovely xxx
I’ve just read this through again, there are words omitted that I’m sure I were present whilst editing, and typos - always!
I am forgiving myself though - just today, when fatigue is swamping me.
The old hare is my muse, if I have hours to waste, admittedly a rare occurrence, I try to track his whereabouts, not often with much success, youngsters are less wise, less cautious and aware. I see them often, have even had the the luck and thrill of filming them. They are five in total and although they are basically solitary creatures, I’m sure the old man is the patriarch. My fascination for these creatures is without limit, a joy to behold and a gift always when I do happen to be lucky.
There is little to compare with being at one with nature... to share our spaces as you quite rightly say.
Have a great afternoon, I think I may give in to a siesta!
Love this, Susie. Spellbinding writing. Love the connection between mother and daughter, brought to vivid life in a shared connection with Nature. Your descriptions are there to be luxuriated in ... it is so easy to imagine the places you are walking and the sights and sounds. The volume of water echoes loudly through the words. And the hare, what a treat. We have two nearby which I have seen two or three times in the year we've been here. A beautiful fox slid across a road in front of me as I cycled the other day. It is so good to share our spaces with the real tenants.
Also, Rosie's smile in that image is a picture. Happy memories indeed.
This is beautiful, Susie, thank you. I relate to it all (and Aveyron was a possible for us when we moved over, though we ended up back in Brittany, where my compass always pulls me).
Many kind thanks Roselle, we had a blessed weekend in so many ways. Thanks recieved and thanks given... strangely I have been thinking of Brittany recently, the distance from any sea or ocean here in the Aveyron is great, no matter which direction we take and as such greatly missed... it is not impossible that we may make one last move before we are to old to care about waves and sand and salty air!
Yes - daughters are so precious.
We're still an hour from the coast here, and I try to minimise fossil-fuel use - but at least it's only an hour. I was brought up by the coast in s-w England, so like you I would miss it if deeply inland. I belong to the land here, and especially the magnificent forest I've written a book about. Plus there's water stress on the horizon further south – and even here, last summer.
But I showed your photo of your hamlet to my partner, and we both sighed - who knows, you and I might yet swap places!
Blessings to you and yours, and for your lovely writing.
We had a brief but much appreciated two hours of sunshine this morning... now a return of rain and grey - it was nice while it lasted..!
Stay cosy.! X
I think if there is one aspect that would deter me from living closer to the coast here in France it is the possibility of too much rain, having spent 13 years in Ireland, and the weather being the main reason we left, I’d have to think very carefully before making that decision. Which is probably why we are still here after twenty years!
I’m going to nip over to your Substack as soon as I’ve fed my starving boys Roselle, meanwhile enjoy your evening and blessing to you too from another very wild and wet evening on my hill x
Lovely, Susie, thank you. Great to have your engagement.
Well, I was brought up in Wales, Cornwall (my family home) and Devon, so this weather is very familiar. I wear it like a cloak ;-).
And yes it's wild, wet, westerly-windy here too – thinking of my friend taking the ferry from Roscoff today!
X
I so loved this journey with you and Rosie and waterfall and Hare! ♥️ Thank you! I couldn't help but feel gratitude, too, for Stove who was waiting back at home to warm you both.
Beautifully strung together. The details interwoven in the story just bring its all alive. Thank you for having us be a part of it though this wonderful remenicence.
What a cherished day. Another gift—the mother-daughter duo offering the forest generous presence. Reading this I could almost feel her gratitude for you both, returning innocence and awe as the fellers and prospectors ignore the balance. Bowing to you both for your dear relationship.
Jo, when someone says to me that I brought tears to their eyes, mine do the same in gratitude.
I write about my hill because I love every raggedy rock and and fallen tree that sits or lays upon it, as does my daughter. I love it’s wildness and all I ever want is to share that feeling... a fourth gift indeed... thank you, truly and deeply, thank you 🙏🏽 xxx
Just so beautiful Susie. It brought tears to my eyes.
Fourth gift - Being able to create the experience again and bring it to life through your words and pictures. Those hours are forever held in time by this heart opening reflection.
Thank you for sharing. Jo xx
I love blessings, always ecstatically grateful whenever I receive them, I feel so special. Sharing them with Rosie was extra special, memories held in your hearts to be felt in the coming days and weeks. As always, you and your stories are a delightful treat which I look forward to and hope that one day you will write a story of our wandering over and around the hill. XX00
I love getting lost in the whimsy and beauty of your stories. ✨
That makes me happier than you can ever imagine Kaitlyn, thank you for taking the time to join me... 🙏🏽
What an evocative write up, Susie. I hope the rest of your few hours with your daughter were good and free from the dangers of tree felling and rivers in spate. When will it be safe to walk on your own hill again?
Many kind thanks Miranda, it was the perfect walk, a mix of beauty and adventure which is just as we like it.
The tree falling in our path was a shock we hadn’t anticipated, we could hear the chainsaw but the acoustics on hills are deceptive, sounds that are far can seem close and like wise for the reverse. To see a tall pine falling, or any other species is one of the saddest sights to witness in nature, to see it cut purposefully to its end by human hands even more so.
As for the river, well perhaps we should have been wiser but we laughed so hard together trying to cross them/it.
My hill is still a little out of bounds, the planted crops are germinated so with care I can walk the edges but the hunters lurk continuously, hidden dots of lethal in the woods... and of course rain continues unabated so sticky mud is multiplied... if I walk right round the lane to the far north facing slopes I can reach the top more easily but this is a hike I don’t always have time for... xx
Thank you for taking us along on this very private and very beautiful walk with your daughter. I yearn for the day I can do the same with mine.
Rosie and I have walked together since she took her first steps Lisha, perhaps his is where her love comes from or perhaps it is purely heightened by living in a city.? Either way, we live for these hours together... and your day will come with your daughters very soon lovely xxx
Beautifully poetic prose Susie. I found myself immersed in the experience.
My warmest thanks Matthew, I hope always, when I write of these wanders for that exact effect so I am delighted you were there with us.
You are too kind Barrie, thank you.
I’ve just read this through again, there are words omitted that I’m sure I were present whilst editing, and typos - always!
I am forgiving myself though - just today, when fatigue is swamping me.
The old hare is my muse, if I have hours to waste, admittedly a rare occurrence, I try to track his whereabouts, not often with much success, youngsters are less wise, less cautious and aware. I see them often, have even had the the luck and thrill of filming them. They are five in total and although they are basically solitary creatures, I’m sure the old man is the patriarch. My fascination for these creatures is without limit, a joy to behold and a gift always when I do happen to be lucky.
There is little to compare with being at one with nature... to share our spaces as you quite rightly say.
Have a great afternoon, I think I may give in to a siesta!
Love this, Susie. Spellbinding writing. Love the connection between mother and daughter, brought to vivid life in a shared connection with Nature. Your descriptions are there to be luxuriated in ... it is so easy to imagine the places you are walking and the sights and sounds. The volume of water echoes loudly through the words. And the hare, what a treat. We have two nearby which I have seen two or three times in the year we've been here. A beautiful fox slid across a road in front of me as I cycled the other day. It is so good to share our spaces with the real tenants.
Also, Rosie's smile in that image is a picture. Happy memories indeed.
Thanks for sharing