Community

            Photo by Sophie-Georgia Ritter

Early Sunday morning I walk out of my front door, nordic walking poles in hand, on my way to meet Inger and Rosie at the Stand de Tir (shooting range).  Coming out of the house next door is my neighbour Mr. Stahl, Ollie’s old English teacher.

“Hi, not running today?”  I ask.  (He’s American they like Hi.)

“No.  Recuperating.”

I make sympathetic noises walk ten paces forwards and see another neighbour standing by his car.

“Bonjour.”

“Ah bonjour ca va?”

“Oui et toi?”

“Ca va bien merci.”

I start climbing the Chemin des Camions, a dirt road running between farm land.  In earlier times it was used by the lorries servicing the old quarry, hence the name.  Monsieur Guignard exits from his little stone house for his early morning smoke.  He looks furtive but greets me warmly.  Half way up the chemin I spy Rosie with the helicopter tail, waiting anxiously at the top.  Today she’s hesitant, several times she runs towards me then changes her mind.  We haven’t walked all summer and I don’t know a lot about dog’s brains and their memory capacity but she can’t quite believe her luck is in.  Inger arrives with another neighbour who is carrying an old dog in a backpack.  We chat briefly, then she leaves us.

We meet several people up in the woods that hug the side of this part of the Jura, and as is the way here, each is greeted with a hearty welcome.  Mention is made of yesterday’s torrential rain, dogs are remarked upon, and Inger congratulates a jogging neighbour who was dancing with her at a party until the early hours.  When I leave Inger and Rosie to take the dirt road home, I see Lexi’s new school teacher jogging towards me.  I think about asking how Lexi is doing at school but from the width of her smile and friendly tone I don’t have to, all is well.