Vahina Settles Down, After a Wild Dash Through the Savanna

Vahina, catching her breath and looking rather proud, after her run down in the valley.

I pulled over into the shade of a bank, the bike leaning against the dry grass. Vahina came and pressed herself against me, chest still warm from the run. She’d tore off into the valley, dug up who-knows-what imaginary treasure under the ferns, then came back to find me, the way she always does, without either of us needing to say a word.

We’re both catching our breath. It’s a warm one for her today, so we take our time before heading back down slowly. Overhead, a wing glides by — a paraglider out of Gap-Tallard airfield, just down the road. The kind of sight you end up watching without even noticing, it’s so much a part of the scenery here.

Then, further down the trail, another rider appears. He slows, stops for a moment to say hello — a few words exchanged, a glance for Vahina, and off he goes. That’s how it is on these trails: you’re more likely to cross paths than lose your way.

I linger a moment on her portrait — the ears, the gaze, that serious look she puts on the second a camera’s around. So tell me, all of you watching: is Vahina properly framed in this one?

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