TRANSHUMANCE
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Sometimes a word comes into your vocabulary and although it doesn't have a clear meaning, it lingers in your thoughts and secretly works in your subconscious, waiting for its opportunity to be more than defined-waiting to take a special place in your heart- to imprint it's definition in a way that the dictionary can only be envious of.
Several years ago, our son Vincent spent time with a family in Bordeaux. Thierry, the father, was very dynamic and looked forward to sharing many experiences with Vincent. Thierry is a wine maker for the well known winery Chateau Estrille. Of his many plans were to take Vincent fishing, mushroom hunting, harvesting grapes, and the one that perked my interest, a hike up the mountains in the Pyrenees for the "transhumance".
Of course, I went to the dictionary to demystify this term. Transhumance: The seasonal moving of livestock from regions of different climates. "Sounds interesting", I thought.
"I am sure our 14 yr. old son will have a blast".
The day after Vincent arrived in France they left on their excursion up the mountain to follow the path of the livestock.
Vincent called home after the weekend and I eagerly awaited his description of his first adventure. I don't remember any mention of livestock just a typical teenage explaination; a full days hike, exhausted with jetlag, and an incredible view from the summit of France to the east and Spain to the west.
So the visions of transhumance went to sleep in my conscience until a few days ago, when on our way up the hill to Venasque, traffic stopped; up ahead a flock of goats and sheep, a mix of dogs, a man on a donkey, several shabby looking characters and a rickity old van with a sign on the back reading "Transhumance". Louis and I jumped out of the car. I grabbed my Flip video camera and we tried to capture the beauty of the primitive and traditional practice of shepherds herding their flocks to new pastures.
This particular group were on a ten day journey from the Vaucluse to the Drome region. The Drome region hosts a festival in the village of Die. You can check out more videos on You Tube and visit the website http://www.diois-tourisme.com/ or look for other festivals under: Fetes de la Transhumance.
The following is a beautiful description from Alphonse Daudet, "Letters from My Mill" that I found in Louisa Jones book, PROVENCE A country Almanac.
"The road itself seemed on the march...the old rams first, leading with their horns, with a wild look to them; behind came the bulk of the sheep, the mothers somewhat weary with their suckling lambs underfoot; the mules, with red pompons, carried the newborn in baskets on their backs that rocked like cradles by the slow rhythm of the march; then the dogs, all in a sweat, their tongues hanging to the ground, and two shepherds, great rogues draped in homespun russet coats that reached to their feet like great capes."
Ps...I just asked Vincent (19 yrs old now) to tell me again about that trip up the Pyrenees...yes!!! there were sheeps and goats, even a carcass that was being devoured by hungry voltures. It was a 30 mile hike to the summit and they stayed four days in the shepherds humble abode. Glad I asked again...
