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We came to the town of Die nearly a year ago. Apart from the unfortunate undertones of its spelling in English, Die is a very comfortable place to live. Undemanding and a touch bohemian and, strangely, unknown, it sits in a glorious valley at the foot of the Vercors Massif. For us one of the principal attractions was to find a corner of the real France, relatively undiluted by 'progress'. Not that Die is backward despite its diminutive size, about 5000 souls, most of the necessities of life and a lot of the luxuries are available here. And in terms of good wholesome food and an astonishing market twice a week it is way ahead of anywhere else we know.
Yesterday, we walked out of our front door with our backpacks to spend a glorious warm and sunny day on the Montagne de Bret just north east of Die. The first Spring flowers are colonising the shady spots in the forests with carpets of Primroses and pockets of Hepaticas paramount. Crocus here and there on the higher and most exposed slopes and ridges. The birds are in good voice and there are plenty of signs of sanglier turning the leaves along the tracks and digging for bulbs and grubs. Perhaps it's the place or perhaps the result of our winter spent uncharacteristically indoors, but this year's signs of Spring are more stimulating than they seemed in the past. It's probably this marvellous place.
A lunchtime snack near the Pas de Bret was disturbed by ravens scouting for left-overs and a pair of disappointed Griffon Vultures (Gyps Fulvus).
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Anemone Hepatica |
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Primrose - Primula Vulgaris |
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Glandasse and the Vercors Plateau from Bret |