Confinement - nature reveals her way

Nature’s trails are abundant in the unsung Gers, far removed from autoroutes and  cities.  One particular loop directs me beneath a high ridge along a wooded belt. Looking down to my left the valley falls away and then rises up towards Lectoure, hidden from view.  A mishmash of brown and green coloured fields broken up by clumps of trees and the odd old stone French farmhouse complete the scene.  The path winds through the trees and the views, like an accordion, draw inwards hugged by the trees then unexpectedly expand joyfully outwards to the hills beyond.  The ground is carpeted in an abandon of colour and the sky is hidden by the criss-cross of branches dressed in that exquisite ‘new’ green of early leaf.  Half way along, I pass an overgrown ruin.  The once small stone house had 2 rooms and an attic.  It is now an island surrounded by fields.  Saplings rudely impose within and without the crumbling walls, the roof has fallen in and I can only imagine who might have lived there in this magical spot.  My story broadens with each passing. Further along, awaits a large flat white stone seat where I pause and survey the hundreds of tiny oak shoots trying their luck in the undergrowth.  It is hard to believe that somewhere out there, people are dying without loved ones by their side and exhausted front line staff are on their knees giving their all.  And the earth continues her cycles of birth and death, in her quiet perfection with only bird chatter for comment. I give thanks and love to those in service for all they tirelessly do and hope that they too may soon be free to replenish and sample the simple pleasure of nature’s trails.