In the mountains of Cantal,

towards the Puy-Mary.

 

 From the mountain, I would say that she is like a pretty woman with her shapes and a very strong personality. The mountain is the forms of ridges and hills, it is the dishes also. In wind or breeze, one can feel his breath on us, sometimes even through the clothes, breath that vibrates the vegetation. One can feel the rustling grass beneath the touch of the flat in one hand. It is as if the floor breathed, as if one felt it lived, a little like a hand resting on a chest ... And yes, the mountain is a woman, it breathes. She lives !! It also lives by its changes of colors, according to the seasons, it lives to the rhythm of transhumance, the trampling of herds and the passage of the farmer who comes to visit his beasts and his plots. The mountain, in fine weather, is adorned with its finest attires with here, a gentian with golden flowers, there, Arnica mountains, farther, dandelion and its flower of sun. Great is the geological, animal and botanical diversity of the Cantal mountains. The human being remains there, even if sometimes she is a tough stepfather who knows how to be loved by her children, even by adoption. Those who leave it never forget it and many of them return to it, as often as they can. In your turn, come to visit him, but above all respect the coach from then, the mountain and its guardians, will respect you.

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                                                 Jean-François FAGEOL