Symphonica: Movement II

You know, there’s this little village in the centre of France. A few houses, a few sheds. 21 people live there in total. It’s deadly quiet, a place where you can actually still hear the wind rustling the leaves, truly hear it. Live moves in an adagio pace for the inhabitants and stillness is demotic. I don’t mean they are lazy! No, absolutely not. They are hard and sturdy workers, rising early each day. But they are not keen on disturbances of their daily happenings.
Le Lac it’s called, The Lake. Not that one can be found within several miles, but that doesn’t seem to bother the townsfolk. A simple existence is all they crave.

One of the village’s greatest assets are two quite singular ladies. One is Madame LeGrand, a spirited 77-year old widow. She’s a small and slightly bony woman, but no less opinionated and shrewd. She’s intelligent and rarely misses a thing that goes on around her. She’s involved in the area’s politics, has opinions about discrimination (very much against) and enjoys her days very much. Still, underneath all the sturdiness, she’s a very sweet woman, who revels in company, even if it’s only for a few moments.
The other is Aline, a slightly younger woman, in character quite the opposite. She’s also a very sweet woman, but not well educated. When she was young she had to take care of her ill parents and after they had passed away, her mentally ill and younger brother needed care. I don’t mean she’s dumb, not at all. She has a good knowledge of the land and the local language, not to mention a natural intuitiveness. But she is analphabetic and her knowledge does not extend greatly beyond the boundaries of her village, her world. Aside from that, she is also a large and slightly chubby woman, naturally round-faced. She’s has a very gentle character, shy from time to time.

And these two women have become close friends. You can see them stroll around the village all day, hardly leaving each other’s presence. They take care of Madame LeGrand’s few chickens and afterwards they lean against the dark brick wall, laughing like two teenage girls. What they’re laughing about, no one seems to know. I certainly can’t understand the local French dialect, but they always make me smile and I greet them jovially. These two elderly ladies. The girls of Le Lac.