The Day The Nightingale Sang in the Wild Cherry Tree
A magical adventure began amid a blizzard of cherry blossom
Recently, I shared the story of how I had visited France for an intended couple of months’ break and ended up staying for 3 years.
The lovely Liberty Forrest, Author commented on it:
What a wonderful story, Sally!! I wanted to know more about that whole experience. Those three years in a book. Please. :) Okay, perhaps just more stories here! :) Thank you!!!
And so, here is the first of what will probably become many stories from that time.
When I wrote the story shared above, my memory of exactly when I wordlessly shared the result of my pregnancy test with Sarah was slightly foggy. As I sat down to write today, the memory returned.
In fact, I had done the test, seen the result, and had the biggest urge to go and run through the woods. And that’s exactly what I did.
Sarah had come to my caravan to see what the result was, but I hadn’t been there, due to my sudden exertion of energy. However, on my return, I went on to Sarah and Joel’s place.
It was a proper early Spring day, with a breeze turning into a strong wind, sending the blossom from the wild cherry tree in their garden swirling in the gusts. I was feeling slightly crazed from my run, the wind, and the new reality that had just become mine.
Sarah saw my face and knew the result of the test immediately. Meanwhile, I knelt down on the floor and started laughing. Soon enough, we were both lying on the ground, rolling around in laughter.
Poor Joel came in from outside and couldn’t make head or tail of what was making us laugh so much and finally, we had to tell him. As we did, the nightingale that lived in the wild cherry tree sang his daily song and we all went silent as we listened.
Here I was, straight out of the dull, grey winter in the floodplains of England and into a land that felt magical and full of promise.
At that moment, I felt humbled by the immense power of nature, fertility, and what I was about to experience going from girl to mother.
The Spring unfolded into a beautiful adventure.
Joel is a highly accomplished musician. Despite being English, he had made quite a name for himself among the very popular traditional music scene of France.
The rest of his band were all living in England and they would get together a few times per year to practise and perform. The rest of the time he would simply play with the many musicians that he knew throughout France, and taught classes one day per week at the University of Bordeaux.
Spring was the beginning of the long season of music events that Joel and Sarah would be attending, the first of which was taking place in Bordeaux. They invited me to come along with them and I gladly accepted.
It took well over two hours to reach Bordeaux, arriving in good time for the beginning of the fête. Being in this kind of scene was when I was in my element; incredible music that took me on a magical inner journey, dancing, and being surrounded by the traditional music lovers of France.
It was through this music that I had already established a great love for France, having attended the now extinct Festival de St Chartier numerous times.
The friends/colleagues that were hosting the event lived in the most beautiful part of Central Bordeaux, where we were to be staying with them for a couple of nights. Arriving from the chestnut and oak-covered hills of the Limousin — being two of the native trees that come into leaf later than other trees each year, and, at that time, were still bare — the greenery of Bordeaux was a hit to the senses.
It felt significantly warmer, too, like Spring had fully arrived and was now hurtling towards summer.
We were in what I understood to be the “musicians quarters” of Bordeaux, overlooking the harbour. Old buildings and cobbled streets with large…leafy…trees, shading the streets. As I came to realise, France is extremely diverse with its microclimates, its flora, and its fauna.
During that visit, Joel’s musician buddies, Laurent and Loic, took us to the beach for the day. It was a good long drive out of the city and down to Arcachon Bay, where we first had to climb over the Dune du Pilat, the largest sand dune in Europe.
Have you ever tried climbing 100 metres up a hill made purely of sand? With each step up, you lose 50% of the height gain as your foot sinks into the sand. It’s jolly hard work, I will tell you that!
But what a sight met our eyes when we reached the top!
Indeed, it was a long way back down to reach the water’s edge, but the endless ocean stretching in front of us was breathtaking.
Joel ran with his arms out to the sides, looking like he may not be able to stop until he reached the water. And then he crashed, face down, into the sand near the bottom.
Beautiful company, incredible scenery, new sights, smells, tastes, and the sensation of just being on a new adventure — this is what life is about.
The remainder of the Spring brought more musical adventures.
We went upcountry to a festival in the north central region, where the love of traditional music is at its finest. It was such a lot of fun; meeting up with Joel’s band members and more of the network of musicians; experiencing the workings of small French festivals, and gradually seeing the Spring turn into summer.
Being around musicians was encouraging me to keep practising my own musical art and I took myself to the local market town to busk. My chosen instrument — the bagpipes.
During my time in France, I grew a bit of a name for myself in that town and nailed the odd well-paid event to play at. The most bizarre of all was getting to be the entertainment for the last-night festivities of a Tantric Buddhist Retreat in a chateau. They were the most…unusual (for want of a better word) group of people, and the drunkest I had seen any Buddhist retreatants in my life.
But I was fed a four-course meal and paid well, so I wasn’t complaining.
Music played a big part in my experience of being in France and was one of the ways that I was able to see more of the country.
Another big part was village life, but that is for another day.
I will leave you with Joel’s former band — he is the hurdy-gurdy player. If you don’t know what that is, Google it!
For a beyond-moving read from Marilyn Glover, settle in and enjoy this:
Thanks for reading!
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