Indiana

Perhaps from this point forward each new entry here should start with a different spire.

I'm sure there are enough of them (although I suspect others have made collections already).

Despite being nearly over, we have discovered that our dog sitting days here have their own routine. To understand their world one must imagine a place where only dogs exist and humans are only there because they need protecting... from other dogs. Be aware that it is necessary to be constantly on alert for those other dogs and to respond to any doggist communication by barking at top volume, just in case. As likely as not this will provoke a similar reaction from other dogs within hearing range, which is most of the village, but they all understand the rules so no harm is done.

The nearest 'other' dog to us is next door. Some days he is an early riser, starting the day with a whining noise at around 6am. (This is not the full doggist sound but perhaps he's just stretching his vocal chords after a long uninterrupted sleep.) Naturally this initiates a period of doggist chatter lasting some minutes by which time every human in the village will be awake, but thankfully they are totally safe... from all the other dogs. It's quite simple really.

Dogs don't measure time as we do, of course, so just as long as the next things happen, in whatever order, then all is well. There's food and there's a walk, both these things being terribly exciting. Indiana is a powerful dog so getting him through the village on a lead is a strain on any human but once we are in the forest he is off like a shot, tireless, dashing into the trees to one side then the other, nose down, following scents far out of sight, but he keeps checking back by returning to the path where his humans are to be sure we are still safe... from other dogs. Then there is Toby, rather elderly but still enjoying the sniffing and running about and he knows he is top dog, the boss, should there be any disputes over food bowls or sleeping positions, but he does demand attention from the humans he cares for. Constant petting will do fine, unless you'd like a wet muzzle on your lap.

Fortunately, gentler beasts we could not have wished for. Both will respond to a brusque command, in their own time, and having them care for us has been quite relaxing... for us too.

We would not, however,  have wanted to take them up to the top of Pic D'Aigle though. This feature sits on one side of a rift between two high ridges, summits of over 1200 metres dropping almost vertically to 800, and the views over the edge of the drop make it rather popular with tourists. The ascent path is steep enough to justify chains on either side, anchored to the rock, for those same tourists to pull themselves up on and the viewpoint at the top is exposed, requiring steady nerves. Not a place to take your dog, one might think, but surprisingly this view is not one shared by many. One dog owner was pulled right off her feet by her pet. She'll be sore.

So what of the view. Well photos don't really do it justice... you had to be there.

Notwithstanding the forested landscape all around us we cannot help but notice that this is a different climate from the West of Scotland rainforest we call home. Our walking boots now are as clean as when we left, covered only with a fine layer of dust. Surely it must rain some of the time here though... and then it does, just a little at first then overnight and through into the next day. Already it feels more Scottish.

The damp ground brings out two creatures we had not noticed before but we managed to photograph only one.

The other one was a Kite, hovering in the breeze right above our heads, a truly spectacular flyer with the classic body shape but noticeably larger than the red kites we have seen nearer home. Any photos we might try to take would be just a silhouetted shape against the sky - anyone could make that up.