A place where “where the same family names can be found on the gravestones and the letterboxes”:
The French village, wrote Roupnel, is a place of conviviality, but “over there, in the fields, the individual converses with silence, fed by dreams and solitude.”
Choosing a ripe fruit is about the position on the branch, not necessarily the colour. The ones on the end of the branch are the ripest, so you start at the extremity.
“People say we live in a pays perdu (forgotten land),” comments Simone. “But forgotten by whom?”