Chicken run

The golden roasted chicken, followed by meringues and red fruit needed to be complimented by more than the good Cotes de Rhone that had accompanied it. The sun was starting to sink into the Atlantic ocean to our west. The light was as clear and cold as iced Stolichnaya. We went for a stroll along the lanes that surround our hamlet. No people to be seen. The farmers were getting their few moments of rest before evening milking. A pair of buzzards were soaring above us. They did not appear to be in hunting mode, but, like us, just enjoying being together on a perfect evening.


About Food,Photography & France

Photographer and film maker living in France. After a long career in London, my wife and I have settled in the Vendee, where we run residential digital photography courses with a strong gastronomic flavour.
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One Response to Chicken run

  1. The light was clear and cold as iced Stolichnaya. Love that image.

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