Summer elsewhere...

Hymn to the Sun

'Voy wawm' said the dustman

one bright August morning -

But that was in Longbenton,

under the trees.

He was Northumbrian, he'd never known

horizons shimmering in the sun,

men with swart noontide faces sleeping, thick with flies,

by roadside cherry trees.

He was Northumbrian, how should he know

mirage among blue hills,

thin streams that tinkle silence in the still

pulsating drone of summer -

How should he know

how cool the darkness in the white-washed inns

after the white road dancing, and the stones,

and quick dry lizards, round Millevaches?

'Fait chaud,' as each old woman said,

going over the hill, in Perigord,

prim in tight bonnets, worn black dresses, and content

with the lilt of sunlight in their bones.

Michael Roberts (1902 - 1948)

How should he know indeed if not here to see for himself how the white road dances in the shimmering, blistering heat. Le plateau de Millevaches, as mentioned in this poem, is an area of outstanding natural beauty in the Limousin, and the medieval village of Treignac sits in this mountainous area. The name reportedly means 'thousand cows' as the gentle brown Limousin cattle adorn every hillside. Although some think it derives from the old Occitan language and may mean a thousand streams. Streams certainly do cascade at every turn down deep rocky gorges to rivers far below. Many rivers have been dammed to create lakes for hydroelectricity, with the great advantage of giving us cool places to swim and enjoy water sports when the heat reaches 31 degrees as it did last week. Our very own Lac du Bariousses is one such and has a lovely sandy beach which is as safe for children as it is relaxing for adults, with the friendly beach bar and restaurant owned by a delightful Tunisian family who certainly know their French and Tunisian cuisine. Our Northumbrian may never have known horizons shimmering in the sun, men with swart noontide faces sleeping, thick with flies or the cool darkness in the white-washed inns. He might be surprised to find though that the thin streams that tinkle silence in the still pulsating drone of summer, are surprisingly like those of his native hills. Correze is often called the Lake District of France, yet in many ways it is more like Northumberland. The wildness, the unspoilt forests and the blue hills all evoke that distant, Northern wildness. Only the heat mirage might be more a feature of the undulating Correzian landscape. Summer here in Treignac is quite beautiful and something we wish everyone could share. Jewel bright geranium nod from every window box. Sweet William, soft pink, creamy white and deep burgundy, carpet the banks alongside vivid orange and yellow poppies. In our garden the roses are blooming, scenting the air all day and long into the night and filling borders and fences with colour. There is nothing subtle about the colours of Correzian gardens. Deep purple and glowing orange, blowsy pink and sunshine yellow vie with each other for attention. Clashing often yet the effect is cheerfully pleasing. It's like summer in a snapshot. In fact Correze in summer is France in a snapshot. 'Fait chaud', as each of our elderly neighbours say, toiling up our hill and home to lunch as the sun reaches it's fiercest. Although no longer in tight bonnets there is still a sense of the lilt of sunlight in their bones. As there is in all of us on these long sunshine filled days.