violaimelesmots, le blog qui aime les mots

Like everyday since the beginning of my holidays in my little house in the Pyrenees mountains, Ariege, France, I set off for an excursion in the woods to walk my dogs and thereby do some exercise. I felt I had the soul of an explorer because myriads of paths crossed each other and got lost in this mysterious and eerie sylvan area. Why eerie ? What dangers can you find in French forests ? Apart from a wild sow protecting her little ones or a dead branch falling on your face, there is nothing to fear. We – actually, we women – fall victim to our television frights after all. How many times did we shudder - or not – watching those American thrillers showing a terrorised woman chased by her future murderer in the middle of a sinister forest wondering what the hell was she doing in this dark and gloomy place ? All in all, the only wolf you can meet in there is but your fellow man, in other words, your neighbour.

Accompanied by these pleasing thoughts, I was going my way looking for manure. Why manure ? I have to tell you that horseback ridings ran through the forest and made the paths clear, which I found exceedingly pleasant. So I was tracking down horse manure that would eventually lead me to the next village where the riding stable was located. Despite the cool air coming up from the river, I felt the sweat dripping down my spine. My two old pooches were also displaying a big pink tong from which occasionnaly dripped a slobbering bead. I reached two paths that intersected. I perused the ground still searching for manure to decide which trail to follow - on the left I could see tyre marks and crushed ferns - on the right, no manure but hoofprints. Naturally I chose the right track.

After I had walked down a small valley, crossed the brook and climbed the opposite hillside I decided I had had enough. The village was still not in sight but never mind, I was thirsty and I was exhausted. I started back. The dogs, always attentive to the least of my actions, did not need my calling them. They were sticking by me like magnetic loving balls.

As I was getting closer to the aforementioned junction, I heard a car door slam. My eyes searched for the origin of the sound anomaly, emphasised by the peacefulness of the place, and through the branches fell on the shape of a man, whose posture was unambiguous ; he was emptying his bladder or to speak more bluntly he was taking a squirt. Apparently he did not see me because, after having finished his task, he turned around and spoke rudely with an older man. The volume went up. I slinked away as discreetly as possible despite my splendid orange tee-shirt. But like in any good fiction, I walked on a dead and dry branch which broke and let out what seemed to me a thundering crack in the air. Then I heard the men shouting at me. Their voices did not sound cordial at all. Consequently, I packed up bag and baggage and bolted away, the dogs at my heels, delighted to run along with me. Needless to say they had not gotten the peril of the situation.

After some strides – which seemed a marathon to me - the heat, if not crushing thanks to the closeness of the brook, was nonetheless slightly overpowering, I began considering the worst. Fortunately, my aggressors – What did I interrupt? Poaching - ? Murder - ? - did not seem battle-hardened sportsmen. Nevertheless they were approaching dangerously. At that moment, something still inexplicable happened to me. Wrapped in my distress – and my loneliness, my dear pooches being completely unhelpful – I found myself embracing a tree – a beech tree, so it seemed to me – with all my strength as if I were catching a life buoy. I felt the bark against my cheek and my body stuck on the solid and powerful trunk. I felt a flow of energy running along my body as if the tree had transferred its strength to me. For a moment, my stress seemed to vanish and a fullness took hold of me. I almost forgot the perilous situation I was in. Then I heard screams that transformed into yells of distress and terror. I opened my eyes. The two men were hysterical and gesticulated frenzily as if an invisible force was attacking them from everywhere. An acid rain was showering them - a rain that was not falling from the sky but from the leaves of the trees. Still stuck to my tree, I was watching the scene - incredulous. Was it possible that this living being I was embracing had answered my call enjoining its mates to protect me from these men - ?

I don't know how but some time later, I found myself seated on my sofa as if from a quasi hypnotic topor, the dogs lying at my feet snoring peacefully. How could I explain what had happened ? Did it matter after all ? I could not wait to tell my partner but I gave up the idea. My story was too irrational. The only thing I could do was to write it down.

(Special thanks to Michel Richard for his precious help.)