Oddly enough, much to Celtic amazement, not a leisure centre. However, these two sheep in the meadow adjacent to our house are looking closely at the leisure centre of a, sadly now deceased, local farmer which is encapsulated in this tiny sylvan idyll. Beyond the fence lies the fishing pond which was stocked with eel and pike, amongst other fish. The pike made for great quenelles de brochet and the eels became the core of intense dishes of matelote d’anguilles, made with the deceased farmer’s own red wine. On the far side of the étang is a huge stand of poplars whose leaves, moving in the wind, create the soft sound of rushing water. His wife could be seen, at certain times of year, scooping up tiny fish with her net ready to be put into a savoury omelette made with bright yellow eggs. Under the trees stands a white ceramic sink which was used for cleaning and gutting the fish that had just been caught, prior to cooking them on a primitive, but efficient fire. The brown ditch like shape, that spreads to the right of the picture from the sink, is the now overgrown petanque piste. Amongst the other pleasures to be enjoyed are the flock of wild duck who live happily amongst the magnificent water lilies, when not giving flying displays in the traditional formation of Hewey, Louie and Dewey. Shelter was provided by the trees which also offered cherries, mulberries and peaches. There was also the chance that gigot might be on the menu.