Leaf would’ve been 77 on Monday (6th) and I’d planned a excursion to scatter his ashes on his birthday but it wasn’t possible so it was the next day when, with three girlfriends who’d known him well, I set off from Mont D’Astarac in bright sunshine that lasted all day.
I’m given to rather grandiose imaginings and had envisaged scattering them on top of a mountain with a 360º view and the idea of throwing them to the four winds – after all, Libra is an air sign and Leaf loved the mountains. A lovely fantasy but not practical, reaching such a height would’ve involved a serious climb and three of us, no longer in the ‘first flush’, wouldn’t be up to mountaineering!
Leaf and I had a favourite restaurant in a mountain valley with a woodland walk from the ancient village church to a point where the view is stupendous. That was the ideal solution. We would eat at the restaurant and then take the path up to the high meadow.
Sadly, it turned out the resto is closed on Tuesdays so we’d had to compromise and eat in Bagnères-de-Bigorre (Vietnamese and very tasty!)
Last time Leaf and I had tackled the walk must have been at least ten years ago! There is no denying, it is gorgeous, through woods and above a rushing river.
We set off and were delighted to discover, among the autumn leaves, purple crocuses had popped up alongside the track and the effect of the sun casting shafts of light through the trees was beautiful. However, the path becomes narrow with a steep drop to one side and strewn with embedded rocks and large stones – small details that I’d forgotten! Nonetheless, there were stretches that were less challenging.
Worryingly, the walk became harder and harder and one of our little party had to give up and find a stone to sit on. Spurred on by sherpa Michelle, still in her fifties, Lili and I, struggling but determined, clambered on upwards. It seemed the little field at the top would never appear, but it did, eventually. We’d made it and sank onto the grass to rest our aching legs and get our breath back. I have no idea how far we’d come, but it had taken at least an hour and we were well rewarded for our effort – the view from the field was spectacular where it wasn’t blocked by trees.
We found a patch of bare earth and stones and dug a hole into which I poured a bagful of ashes. We then covered the spot with rocks to form a small cairn and the painted top-stone was set firmly but visibly in amongst them – LEAF 1948-2023. As we worked we played his favourite music.
With whispered messages, the three of us scattered more ashes in different directions. I managed to hold myself together but needed some time to calm my emotions before we said our ‘Goodbyes’ and began the descent, aware it was likely to be rather more hazardous than the climb. Several times I, at least, had to come down backwards and be guided by Michelle. With age, I’ve found I’m not so supple and steady. Happily, triumphant though exhausted, we reached the church below without stumbling.
I think the climb was part of our tribute to Leaf and am so happy some of his ashes are buried in a place where we’d spent treasured and memorable afternoons together.
Cups of tea and donuts at Lili’s on the way home were most welcome!
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