Beyond the beach, lies 'chateau row.' Grand houses, with views across the Baie de Bourgneuf, to Noirmoutier. Their lawns shaded by sculptural scots pines.
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Below them, a craggy foreshore, of reefs and rock pools, runs out to meet the sea.
And a fish trap lies ready, for use once the tide returns.
Waves break, on the submerged ridge, of which Notre-Dame warns. As a thirty knot blow churns the waters.
In a lane, sheltered by the houses, the sun burns hot in still air. The shade of the trees, welcoming.
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Pan tiled roofs peep through the foliage, on the hillside above me. As the lane winds its way along a shoreline, scalloped by bays.
Until it bursts into the bright light, and gregarious hubub, of Piriac’s Place de la Liberation, on market day.
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