Louise by the Shore (Louise en hiver)

Louise in Winter

What a hullabaloo.

The train only dropped them off last night...

and they've already invaded the beach.

If only they'd come back a few at a time.

I got it!

Not all at once...

...and not shout so much at their children.

Or not bring the children.

I didn't think they'd recognize me.

But this morning,

some of them waved to me with great delight...

...the way you'd wave to an athlete

who'd won a gold medal,

that everyone would forget the next day.

Others just smiled...

as if nothing had happened.

A misunderstanding?

Nothing of any consequence.

And yet...

I was in no hurry.

I was catching the last train of the season.

It left at seven in the evening,

just as it does every year

before the big tide at the equinox.

I had plenty of time.

The storm lasted for three days,

three whole days

when I didn't dare leave the house.

Then, the weather turned fine.

It was sunny and warm for September.

I wasn't frightened,

but I was annoyed.

They would soon notice I hadn't come home.

My janitor would get in touch with Josiane.

She and the children would come to fetch me,

and I'd be in for a good talking to.

I wonder if I could manage by myself.

I expected someone to show up on Sunday,

but in the end no one came.

I was surprised, but I didn't really mind.

They'll come sooner or later.

It's funny, people are afraid of everything nowadays.

It's not the first monster tide we've had.

No one made a fuss back in the day.

I spent most of my time on the beach.

The sand is warm.

The sea isn't as cold as it is in July.

And there's life everywhere I look...

...as if all the creatures

have been waiting for the vacationers to leave.

The birds pay no attention to me.

I must be insignificant to them.

All I can do is wait.

People will come at Christmas,

if only to make sure that their houses are still standing.

I've moved out of my house.

Much too quiet...

and damp.

I left a sign on the door.

"I missed my train. Help. I'm on the beach."

By Christmas, they'd have found nothing

but a sponge at the end of the hall,

eaten by worms, covered with moss.

"Oh, look, it's Louise!"

That's who it is."

November 15th.

Weather, fair.

Light fog.

Tidal coefficient, 90.

I used a tide table as a calendar.

The ocean gently turns the pages,

and every morning

I wake up to a new sky,

a new expanse of beach...

...all just for me.

I could do anything...

...or nothing.

I could lie around all day long.

But I've established a routine.

In the morning, cleaning.

The sand gets in everywhere.

Next, a cold shower on the beach

in front of the hotel.

Then, shore fishing till noon.

I manage very well.

Like when I built my little shack,

I surprised myself.,

I wasn't as clumsy as I expected.

My body remembers how to do things

that I myself have forgotten.

After lunch, a little nap.

Then I wander off to explore.

The best part of the day.

Oh, I never go very far,

just as far as my legs can carry me.

But I seem to be in better health

than I was in the city.

My aches and pains are gone,

and I haven't had a single cold.

All I have in my first aid kit is a roll of sticking plaster.

I always seem to be cutting my fingers

with my poor eyesight.

I'm usually tired come evening,

but once a week I go for a stroll along the promenade

for old times' sake.

I always enjoy that.

At night, I sleep like a baby.

I decided to celebrate Christmas today,

before the crowds arrive.

Oh, they should be here by late afternoon

so they'll have time to put up their decorations.

My last day on my own.

And the sun is still shining.

I remember Christmases in Biligen long ago,

so cold and gray

the street lights would stay on all day long.

We'd dash out to the shops for pastries and cheese

and hurry back to huddle by the fire

and listen to music on the radio.

Well, in a few days, I'll be home.

Back to my life, such as it is.

It seems so strange.

February 7th.

Still no answer.

It doesn't matter, I'm getting used to it.

And I have a lot to do.

I had to find some good soil, and that wasn't easy.

There's hardly anything but sand.

But I managed.

I'm growing lettuce and leeks.

Now what I need is a little rain.

Of course, every day the sky is clear.

If only I could say the same for my eyesight.

I'm having trouble seeing close up.

But my distance vision is another matter.

Last night, it was funny,

I went up on the promenade to look through the telescope.

You never know.

I was about to put my last coin in the slot

when I realized I didn't need to.

I could see a line of cliffs on the horizon

as clear as anything

for the first time.

Perhaps it was because the sun was shining on them.

I stood there looking at them for a long time,

as if they were somehow familiar...

...though there's no escaping that way.

There's someone else in Biligen.

I felt it for the last few days.

Another castaway?

I know he's here somewhere.

It's getting on my nerves.

Ah.

Here's the latest news.

"The Highest Tides of the Century."

Don't headline writers love to frighten people?

Hm, look at this.

"Panic in the Netherlands!"

Oh, I don't like that.

I don't need anyone now.

I could have called him Wednesday,

that's the day we met.

Or maybe Shore Fisher

because that's what he likes to do best.

I called him Pepper.

It suits him.

He's old,

his coat is rough and shaggy.

He's salt and pepper,

We haven't been out of each other's sight for a week.

We eat our meals together.

We're learning to get along.

If he gets ahead, he'll stop and wait,

...and he'll pretend there's something in the sand

that needs a good sniff.

I've been telling him about the daydreams I've been having recently.

Are they memories or what?

They just appear out of the blue...

...like...

...like little waves,

mysterious.

Hello, Tom.

How are you today?

Oh, mustn't grumble.

At least the birds aren't pestering me today.

Have you seen Pierre? I'm looking for him.

You know what he told me?

He says there are squirrels that can fly.

They spread out their paws up high.

I'd really like to try.

It wouldn't work, Louise.

It's dangerous.

What would you know?

You tried when you jumped out of your plane?

You don't even know the war is over.

My grandmama told me.

"The war is over," she said.

Hey, know what?

My mother showed up earlier.