Avigny - L'arrivée
I finally arrived at nightfall. It’s not to displease me. I often like to arrive in an unknown place at night to discover it in its entirety in the early morning. With the difference that Avigny is anything but an unknown place for me (see preamble)! It is a place chosen knowingly for all the needs mentioned earlier in undertaking this residence. And by writing these words a few days after my arrival here, I can say that not only did I not err but that this place (and its hosts) exceeded my expectations and not in the sense that one might believe! I’ll talk about it again…
Before sunset, however, I was able to enjoy behind the wheel of the Burgundian landscapes. They delight me. Yes, there was consolidation and the plains sometimes stretch as far as the eye can see, but nothing to do with crossing the Beauce the day before! Beauce… I have to go back a little to talk about it. The Beauce, which looks like a desert crossing. Desert dotted with windmills, factories and idle villages… I cross a commune, meet parents who pick up their children at the school bus and ask me “but how do they live here?” This question touches the exact opposite of the object of my residence and therefore resonates very strongly. Shade and light. Beauty and ugliness. On the other side of the coin, as Franck Lopvet would say, a friend of mine I tell this story to says to me, “This is where there are the most farm suicides.” I understand.
All this to say that the entrance into the Yonne and its landscapes does me good. It’s beautiful, slightly hilly. Trees dot the fields. A feeling of harmony and lightness emerges from this ensemble and the white stone of the villages reminds me of the luminous tuffeau of Loire. I feel good. There is no explanation, but it bodes well for the future.
Sophie and Martin welcome me. We haven’t seen each other for a number of years. Time goes by, but the house hasn’t changed. Neither do they. As I remember. I take possession of my apartments. As they say, there’s more than enough.