After the stormy weekend, Monday was a blessing - a blue-skied spring day with a warm wind from the south.
I headed for Agen and Castorama to buy another shower unit, some lighting and to make a final decision on whether I really do want slightly girly pinkish tiles in the wet room. Somewhat to my surprise, I decided the girly tiles would look good and I've bought an oval mirror and slightly frilly lights to continue the theme.
After the stress of shopping a tea and bun seemed appropriate and I was making for Carrefour's excellent cafeteria, when I heard them. No one else seemed to notice above the to-ing and fro-ing of cars in the car park and the general noise and clatter of a busy supermarket. But they were there. I was sure I hadn't imagined that wild sound. I strained to see against the bright sunlight, scanning the horizon. But nothing. Then something made me look straight above my head and there they were - some two hundred cranes - rising on a thermal blending and splitting, weaving in and out, circling higher and higher.
For minutes - tea and bun forgotten - I stood with my head back watching their distant ballet, way above me in the blue sky.