Guess where I am?

Naa... not in Aquitaine this time.... on the other side of the Atlantic.... like in Rio de Janeiro....since we have a Bresilian in the family (my daughter is born there) we 'have' to go there from time to time....

The picture shows the Ipanema Beach seen from the Vidigal beach (eastward).

Saint Girons, deserted

Saint Girons in wintertime is a ghost village. When I park in the morning, there are no other cars there. I walk down the strip to the sea and everything is closed and shut. The sand has blown all over the walking lane. I hesitate about the feeling: scary or calm? A little bit of both.

The thunder of the sea is strong, yet there is no wind at all. Strange....

I walk along the beach, take some photos... listen to the noise. When you take the time to listen you start hearing more and more things. The distant even roar, the sound of waves breaking and the higher hissing sound of the foamy water rising high up on the sand.

A couple with a dog shows up. A lonely elderly man sits facing the sea.

The space is open, the air is high.  

Spring?!

Some cute yellow crocuses had managed to brave the winter - an announcement of spring arriving? I think I heard some birds singing too....  After raking some more leaves, we celebrated (just in case it won't last) with some Tourtière, a regional cake. This one with prunes and armagnac...