I promised you vineyards. And here they are, glowing and golden. We took these during our trip to the Sancerre region (home of the French grandparents) at a time when the grapes have been harvested and the leaves have turned from green to golden and eventually to russet then brown before each vine is cut back to an ancient little trunk that will wait through the winter before tossing out fresh, young branches again.
The slopes of vineyard line the hills and spill into the valleys everywhere you turn. This is a favorite spot of R.'s, one we visited on my first trip here, where a Hollywood-esque sign watching over the grapes.
There were still some little grapes holding on that had escaped harvest and we grabbed little sweet and sticky tastes here and there.
A V of noisy, migrating cranes flew over head and they were followed by another group, and another, and another for what seemed like ages! There were hundreds of them all off to the south together.
This is the town of Sancerre - perched on a little hill and surrounded by the fields and vineyards that are the lifeblood of the region.
Looking at the scene as it runs into the distant, one can't help but imagine what it might feel like to be able to run your hand over the fields as it it were a great green quilt over the landscape.
And there you have a stroll through the hills of Sancerre.