This afternoon whilst out riding in the sunshine one of my pannier bags fell off my motorcycle. I didn’t know until much later when I stopped at the pharmacie. I retraced my route twice, looking into ditches as I passed. I couldn’t find it. Particularly annoying because my Carte Gris and insurance documents were inside.

When I got home I found I had a missed call on the landline. I called and the phone was answered by a French man who spoke English. He had found my pannier bag, had called my insurance company which couldn’t help and then called Triumph in Limoges who gave him my number! Thanks Triumph. He’d also called the police in case I called them to report my loss.

He texted me his address and I went to collect the bag. He and his family farm bees and sell wonderful honey. I bought two jars!

What a fine and honourable man. He turned this into a wonderfully lucky day. Thank you Julien!

If I hadn’t walked out in the dusk this evening, I wouldn’t have seen the two deer across the field over at the edge of the wood.

I wouldn’t have heard – then seen – the lines of cranes flying north.

I wouldn’t have seen the outline of the bare trees against the deepening blue, the clouds that had just left the hail and the sun set.

I wouldn’t have watched the clouds gather at the top of the hill or the mist tumbling in at the crossroads.

I wouldn’t have seen our neighbour Mr Breton waving to me as he drove past in his battered white van with his dog at his side in the passenger seat.

Home now to the wood stove and to wonder why I feel the need to tell you all this.