I've just been away in the Vezere valley, Dordogne, for a week. I want to write poetically but my words keep coming out wrong so I'm going to start at the beginning and write it like a diary a bit at a time. 
Oct 4th & 5th - after a fairly epic journey from England, the group arrived at the first campsite and set up the tents and a yurt. We were camping at the top of a grass hill surrounded by trees. Later the sky was bright with stars, static and shooting. I fell asleep listening to owls calling. And woke with doleful church bells, cocks crowing and birdsong, to a drench of autumn dew.