September, Gourmet Month
In the great waltz of the seasons, change of horseman with Fructidor,
The summer goes on tiptoe, leaving in its wake a perfume of regrets,
After the long sunny days the gourmet month announces the Autumn in gold,
Sweet lights with delicious fruit and mushrooms with large pedigree.
On the rump of the purple hills are played "The grapes of anger"
The ballet of "colles" animates the rows of vines between laughter and jubilant clamors,
After the August veraison, the sugar-swollen grape joins the winemaker's cellar,
At the harvest, Cabernet, Merlot and Sauvignon are celebrated and matured.
Mira, look, beautiful dressed her gilt satin dress poked with freckles,
All sugar, honey the shimmering bells of mirabelles offer their sweetness,
This late summer plum with delicate pulp transcends the palates into jam,
Ideal in clafoutis, tart and sorbet it will embalm your table, that's for sure.
Objects from a traditional late summer picking, the blackberries are deserved,
These delicacies of farfadet inflict some cruel scratches,
By grabbing them on the bushes bordering the bucolic paths,
One can not resist the temptation to taste them while thinking about the jams.
If the flora no longer has the spring exuberance, in the wet meadows,
The aconit napel raises its tall stalks of purple flowers,
The so-called "helmet of Jupiter" was described by the druids,
Of arsenic plant because of its high toxicity, magical plant that worries.
Colchiques in the meadows, it's the end of summer, murmurs the nursery rhyme
A formidable beauty, its delicate purplish pink flowers illuminate the impregnated meadows
The ancients, knowing its toxicity, called it "finger of Hermes" dreaded,
The pharmaceutical industry has made it an imperial drug against malignant gout.
Along the banks of the rivulets a graceful little passerine with lightness,
Costume gray pearl, white mask and little black beret, what zealous elegance,
Nicknamed "hochequeue" by the continuous swings of its long tail,
The wagtail occupies her day in her quest for bellicose midges.
To be at her ease, she chooses the forests of larches, spruces or pines,
Thrilling with seeds, she dislodges the scales of "pine cones" from a skilful beak,
This boosted also inspects the cracks of the bark in search of insects and spiders,
Here is the black tit in its harmonious clothes of gray, white and glossy black.
If at Spring the hawthorn and the blackthorn of the hedges are covered with white,
In the autumn no confusion possible, the red "cenelles" of the first are oval,
While the second door, round like marbles, gray blue gray fruits,
Attractive at the time of the harvest, whistling whistles and brilliant musician thrushes.
In the nearby chestnut a tiny red-haired ball plays the tightrope walkers,
Climbing along a stem, here is the "golden rat" with the pretty name of muscardin,
That he is cute with his adorable face that shine two artist's eyes,
He gleaned chestnuts and blackberries to prepare his hibernation in the garden.
For those who walk the undergrowth, we know that they are there before seeing them,
Their subtle and strong perfume, activates the ceps hunting with great hopes,
The underground web comes alive, the carpophores arise from the mycelium in evening dress,
Under the oaks and chestnut trees, the bolets make their fleeting appearance without disappointment.
Their prince, the "Cèpe de Bordeaux" in the color hazelnut brown remains the most esteemed
This cap of champagne with swollen foot offers its white flesh under its shiny cuticle,
But do not despise his close cousin, the "bolet bay" with the bluish aspect to the touch,
Her flesh firm, whitish or light yellow will replace her comparing Bordeaux slander.
On the other hand, attention to the "bolet satan", forbidden of basket, the hat often bosselé
It owes its bad reputation to the red color vinasse of its flesh which bluish to the touch
Look at him, but leave him on his chunky-red-orange foot,
It gives off a nauseating odor to picking and causes severe diarrhea if consumed.
For the "bassiers" who frequent the sea, the great tides of the autumnal equinox,
Favored to the foreshore the picking of shells and crustaceans often good ,.
Armed with seals, small shovels, landing nets and hooks,
They pick mussels, they pick up shells, they catch shrimps and clumps.
In spring, leaving the sea to rivers and rivers of their hatching,
After a noisy nocturnal "bull" the females lay on the spawning grounds their eggs,
The large allis shad will allow the summer fry to begin their migration,
To return adults to shimmer their dresses with metallic, green and blue reflections.
As early as September, from dusk to dawn, the forest resounds with guttural clamor.
The period of rutting began for the elvers deer submerged of testosterone,
They run in all directions, scratching the ground with their hooves and their woods to the royal
Elongated, lips and nostrils turned up they launch their swaggering lament.
Their long, hoarse moanings, their eyes capsized in a sort of trance,
Their powerful calls, audible for miles, serve to intimidate the rivals.
But above all these roars signal to the hind in heat their presence,
Notice to the amateurs, the ball on the Place of the bramble is opened by Roméo.
In this month when the equinox recovers us the lightness brought by the solstice,
Well hooked on the reach of the electric wires the swallows are gathered,
Choristes feathered, the arondas interpret their last rondo gratis,
Truant with expanded throat, they prepare their long Group migration.
L’ ARIÉ…JOIE