Laruns - livestock in the village

Laruns and the Vallee d'Ossau

We have been very fortunate to have landed in Laruns or we have followed powerful, accurate instincts which have lead us to a valley of spectacular natural beauty with a very strong regional culture and an intact local community. Our observations need to be tempered naturally by the fact that we are outsiders, from outside the village, outside the valley and even outside France. Our ability to understand and observe is therefore limited.

Laruns (popn 1700 ) seems however, to be a strong functioning community and the inhabitants of the valley lead lives that are less complicated by material desires and wants than many others we have encountered in Australia and other places. We have encountered many acts of generosity in our time here - the boys at the Auberge left us with the keys and said we could stay while they went away for a holiday, Gi Gi and Jean Luc from the Hardware shop have lent Ashur a bike and add little gifts when we buy things, Emily from the Real Estate Office has lent Sue and I a very good bicycle, Jean Pierrie regularly won't let us pay for saucisson or cakes we buy from his shop and introduces us to everybody, Anna, the shepherd sells us beautiful cheese and under charges massively, Marco offers walking shoes to Ashur and snowshoes to us, Bernard managed to fit twelve rowdy Australians into his tiny kitchen for a wonderful Pot au Feu. People don't appear to be materially needy or greedy and are happy to give generously when they can and what they can. There are hardly any big flash cars in the village and we have seen no widescreen TVs in French houses, the goods in the shops are basic and the food is simple. Perhaps other more important needs are being met and there is no great gaping hole clamouring to be filled with material goods or wealth.

The community is strong and supportive, families stay in the valley so family networks are intact. The whole community is very proud of the schools and a number of the teachers including the Directrix are local people. Hadley, Ashur and I helped at the market one Saturday morning cooking chestnuts to raise money for a school expedition to the beach. The interaction was wonderful - everyone was having a good time and we ate fresh roasted chestnuts.

The valley abounds with spectacular natural beauty, clean and fresh. The incredible power and majesty of the mountains are a constant reminder of scale and of the place of human beings on this planet. The closeness and the very real significance of the elements - snowstorms, avalanche, sudden changes in conditions ensures everyone is aware of the power of forces non-human.

The closeness and everyday encounters with animals are also a powerful influence. There are sheep walking through the streets every day, so there is manure everywhere and the whole place smells of livestock. One shepherd waters his sheep in the village fountain every afternoon on their way back to their warm shed, probably below his house. It is lambing time now and there is a small window low down in the street past the church that we can peer through and see new born lambs and their mothers in the warm straw. There are little paddocks throughout the town and the valley with cattle in them and from our terrace we can generally see at least five mobs of sheep grazing in terraced fields in the valley and the mountainside. We know when the shepherd decides it is time to head for the warmth of the grange because we can hear the bells ringing as the sheep trot along behind. We can hear sheep bleating to their lambs and the lambs replying, dogs barking and horses whinnying. At any time in the village you can hear, smell or see livestock - there is no way the people of the village are going to grow out of touch with their roots, where their food and fibre comes from of with the very soil itself.

All this, we believe leads to the maintenance of a strong community where other things are more important than material goods - a community we are very fortunate to be able to join for a brief moment.

Autumn - final stages

Autumn continues to amaze and delight us all here in our little house in the Vallee d'Ossau. Every day is a little different as the vegetation, the weather and the climate all change, interact and produce a continuing display of altering colour, shape, shadow, light and atmosphere. Leaves are falling quickly now, each snow fall and windy day brings them down in masses of colour. Consequently the colour is lower down now - on the floor of the forest and it is brown with a deep layer of soft leaves. The trees are skeletons and the forest is becoming transparent, other colours appear through the bare trees. Frost and snow add another dimension. The fresh, cold weather has ensured that frost keeps the ground white all day on the northern slopes and close to the edges of tree belts. The sun is lower now all day and the light on some days is soft, edges are indistinct and shadows are long.

The shadows of the trees are lines on the ground, well gone are the full dark shadows of summer that so delighted us on warm days. The autumn shadows are colder and longer, traces on the ground of the bones of the trees. The sun follows the peaks across the sky, staying low and ensuring the bases of the northern slopes never see the sun. The frost stays here all day and in the late afternoon as the sun is setting the frost here is still glowing white - cold places, the northern slopes. The stock naturally move to the southern slopes.

The sheep are only in the fields during the middle of the day now, they are taken out in the morning and return to their warm granges in the mid afternoon. A large mob of horses came down from Col d'Aubisque and through the streets of Beost across the valley yesterday. The horses are the last to leave the mountains as the snow settles.

Shearing on the Plateau du Benou

There is plenty of time to talk and discuss.

Shearing on the Plateau du Benou

In with the lambs ewes and all

Shearing on the Plateau du Benou

Ash blissfully played with the lambs and pups all day.

Shearing on the Plateau du Benou

Each sheep is a joint effort

Shearing on the Plateau du Benou

Men, women and sheep in the straw

Shearing on the Plateau du Benou

The day of the shearing at Jusef and Anna's, we have been invited to come and participate if we like and are very much looking forward to another new experience - It is a beautiful clear, cold morning in the valley - we had to wash ice off the windscreen before we could go anywhere. A quick stop at the Boulangerie for bread for our picnic and off up the white, white valley floor, frost on all the bushes and fence posts, all the pastures white, the air still, sky blue. As we wound our way up to the plateau we left the white valley below and climbed into the sun, warmer already but still cold and frosty in any shaded spot. At Jusef and Anna's place there were already a few cars and from outside the shed we could hear the click of shears and a quiet murmur of voices. We walked into the warm wooden shed and a completely different shearing scene greeted our eyes. A long wooden feed trough runs along the middle of the shed and on each side of the trough is an open area covered in straw where the sheep live in winter. In varying positions all over the straw were about eight men and women cradling sheep, lying on sheep, standing beside sheep, clipping the wool with hand shears, chatting, laughing and calling across the shed. There is no great attempt at speed, plenty of conversation and discussion, time to talk and provide encouragement and advice. The variety of positions and holds is enormous - sheep sitting on their tails, lying on their sides with the shearer spreadeagled all over the sheep, sheep on their backs, legs in the air while someone clips off a bit of belly wool, some just lying peacefully on their sides chewing their cud while a shearer clips wool off a hind leg, one sheep standing on all fours while the shearer quietly works away. All is very quiet, no struggling or complaints from sheep or shearer, no swearing, no cuts, no blood, no engine noise. A moving mass of men, women and sheep rolling around in the straw in a warm old wooden shed while the frost stays white on the ground outside. The wool is long and stringy with very little weight and when the fleece is all off it is dumped in a wool pack - no skirting or classing, no pressing and Jusef says it is sold for very little.

There is a range of dogs outside, little black and brown Labris all spikey and cheeky, enormous white mountain dogs, happy looking Border Collies, every now and then there is a ruckus and a bedlam of barking breaks out. Smoko arrives and everyone stops to eat, drink and smoke - there are baguettes, cheese, saucisson, pate, beer and wine. The people are an interesting mix, about half men and women, long hair, beards and berets, an alternative feel. This is the traditional way of shearing the Brebis, all the Bergers gather at one person's place and shear the sheep and another day at another place. It is a social time, an opportunity for exchange as well as a practical way of getting a hard job done. There are also a number of young people who come in at smoko time, take up a pair of shears and slowly but surely shear a sheep. The young people look rather urban and alternative. We talk to one young man as he watches us, he is a cabinet maker from a nearby town and is training to become a mountain guide, mid to late twenties, he says he had an earlier life in marketing but left that in order to work with his hands and to be involved in something truthful and real. He is a friend of Jusef's daughter and will come back next year, attracted perhaps to an authentic way of life. The mix of traditional rural and urban, old and young must promote sustainability of a way of life that every one here is working to maintain.

We watched for a while, then Jusef handed us a pair of shears and we started. I catch a ewe, not difficult as they stand quietly at one end of the shed. I have selected a very big sheep, heavily pregnant and have some trouble tipping her over, but manage eventually to get her into position and start slowly. The shears are sharp and cut well, the ewe is in good condition with a bare belly and there are no wrinkles, the wool comes off easily. She doesn't struggle and is content to lie down quietly for the long blow and any other blow for that matter, a milking sheep, she is accostomed to being handled. The old techniques come slowly back, it is a logical process, a sort of a slow dance, moving constantly with the sheep. As my back gets tired Sue takes over, then Hadley and between us we finish the job without too much hassle. There are rather odd tufts and lumps of wool left all over her but she doesn't stand out particularly as a pink skin ad no second cuts are not so important in this shed. We watch the others and talk with them and they are very happy to help and give advice. They do as little bending as possible, hence the sheep is often lying on the floor and the shearer lying on the sheep. As I catch my next Brebis and attempt to tip her up I stumble backwards and fall flat into the straw to everyone's amusement. A young woman is struggling so Had goes to help, they all end up on the floor in the straw, calls of encouragement from every quarter. After smoko we get a bit organised and there are six or so shearers on our side and a catcher who brings the sheep to us. The cabinet maker has a go as well - we are flying through them and do another three, a grand total of five for the morning - this is not Jackie Howe type speed ! One of the girls is consistently doing two or three to our one. While we are shearing, Ashur has spent the morning in the lamb pen, blissfully playing with the lambs, carrying them, cuddling them, sitting with them. When he wasn't playing with the lambs he was having wild chasing games with the little black dog or talking to the big white mountain dog. The lambs are all healthy looking, with curly white coats, big roman noses and bellies full of milk.

All done except for a few in the lamb pen, two shearers are working away in there so we hop in and catch the last ewe, tip her up and begin. This really is different, as soon as she is tipped up a couple of lambs dive in for a free feed, there are lambs milling around, nibbling on our jeans, sucking and nuzzeling our legs, when we we lie down in the straw with the ewe, there are lambs climbing all over us and the sheep, chewing and nibbling on everything. Here we are, rolling around in the straw with a huge tranquil Brebis, lambs climbing all over us and the ewe while we slowly clip her wool with a pair of handshears - a little unorthodox for a couple of Australians who grew up with merinos in western Queensland !! Eventually they are all done and the shorn sheep let out of the shed. The shearers wash under a tap outside in the frost and stand around in the sun talking - the same as shearers anywhere.

A lovely relaxed atmosphere to the entire day, many things remniscent of the shearing sheds of Sue's and my youth - the smells, the sounds of sheep and dogs, the feel of greasy wool, men standing around at smoko talking and smoking but at the same time so different with the relaxed pace, the co-operative approach, the sound of shears clicking, conversation and laughter, a complete lack of struggling or swearing, smoko of baguettes, cheese, saucisson, pate, wine and beer, men and women shearing. The image of men, women and sheep rolling around in the straw in a warm wooden shed with the frost on the ground outside will remain with me.

Autumn feelings

There is a feeling which comes over me on autumn days - days with clear blue skies, cool breeze, puffy white clouds, warm sun on my face, soft light and lengthening shadows. A sort of an aching melanchology, a sense of loss or losing perhaps, something is slipping inexorably away. Is it a primeval understanding of the death of summer, the loss of warmth and sun, growth and the simple living of warmer seasons ? A sense of valuing the time I am within, a knowledge deep inside of the brevity of the seasons, the brevity of the moment. Is it a gift from a time before, when winter was indeed a primeval force to contend with, a commmunication with the plants and animals for which winter is a very real threat to survival, or a matter of growing to understand the Vallee d'Ossau where the seasons determine all activities.

Whatever the reason, I appreciate it on these glorious autumn days as a gift, a gift that helps me to appreciate the beauty of the moment.

I sit in the high Pyrenees with a gurgling stream beside me - pure, cold, clear, water running through mountain pastures shortened by the summer grazing, warm sun on my face, a light breeze through the valley. Purple crocuses carpet the glades along the stream, snow on the high peaks and soft white clouds in a blue, blue sky. This won't last forever, winter is fast approaching, but it is wonderful now.

We walk on the steep side of a valley with a stream running noisily at the bottom, terraced pastures across the valley, cow bells ringing. The steep mountainside is multicoloured with dark green pine, bright yellow birch, golden, brown and red beech, brown oak and the odd bright red of an unknown tree - (perhaps Ash), grey rocks and white peaks in the distance. As we move up the valley we can see the floor brown with leaves, a splash of silver water running through the middle. The bracken on the hillsides is brightly coloured - red, orange and yellow - a wide mass of colour against the blue as you look up. The sun drops and the light through the leaves is golden and soft, the air is cool and so, so crisp

Autumn colours

The colours of Autumn are absolutely stunning, we are continually amazed as we walk or drive through different parts of the valley - the variety of colours and the different stages of autumn, the varying effects of altitude and time provide a constantly changing show for us all. The locals say some autumns are more colourful than others and this autumn is a colourful one - we are lucky.