I’m just going to say it: Spring is the best season of the year. It is.
Most people say it’s Autumn or Summer. And yes, yes, they’re pretty good too. We all like a bit of sunshine, a bit of heat. But you truly can have too much of a good thing. Summer is overindulgence personified; it’s a surfeit of obscene temperatures and overly-optimistic expectations that never pan out. Autumn is all pumpkin spice kitsch, dying vegetation and a spasm of macabre cosplay. Let’s not forget Winter – the Grim Reaper of seasons. Occasionally someone will choose it as their favorite. I can never tell if they’re just being contrary or if they choose it because everyone else has already chosen the good ones. Weirdos, whatever the case. The best I can say is that Winter is definitely in the top four of all the seasons.
Ah, but Spring. Spring is the beginning, it’s renewal, exuberance, exultation. It is simply Nature declaring itself. No more, no less. The wind may blow. The rain may fall. But there is no denying the joy of this annual renaissance, the promise of another year of the thrilling sound of birds singing, the heady scent of roses blooming, the warming sight of lambs at play in the meadows. It is all such a deliriously delicious buffet for the senses. And the power of this infectious explosion of life is at its zenith in Spring. Undeniably, the top season.
So it was in this elevation of spirit that Cherie and I took a sunny Spring afternoon off from our exhausting retirement and drove the 10 kilometers north of Fougères to La Tourbière de Landmarais. This natural area comprises 26 hectares of marshland – one of only three rainwater source peat bogs in Bretagne. that was restored and established as a regional park in the late 1980’s.
Since at least as early as the Middle Ages the bog had been used as a source of peat, the turves cut, dried and burned for domestic cooking and heat. Large scale exploitation of the peat here was first employed under the direction of occupying German forces during World War II with additional industrial digging conducted in the 1960’s. These 20th century intensifications led to considerable damage to this sensitive ecosystem. Much of the water had been drained away, leading to the degradation of the remaining peatlands. In the 1980’s the Département of Ille et Vilaine purchased the area and established it as a regional park. Through careful management by the regional authorities, the wetlands have been restored. They now provide a beautiful natural space for a wide range of wildlife, as well as an enjoyable place for visitors to walk and observe.
On any given day, you will have the entire park to yourself. Except for a good number of migrating birds, insects, and all of the creepy-crawly creatures that inhabit the still, tea-stained waters of the bog. Well-tended wooden walkways allow you to proceed out over the marsh, winding your way through tall-grass tussocks. The stillness is pervasive, broken only by the low murmurs of conversing waterfowl in the distance – a much better way to calm your spirit than a €300 hot stone spa treatment.
A broad trail leads around the perimeter of the marshland, leading you past pleasantly green pastures and through woodland. The flowering trees are alive with bees. The busy humming of their work to collect pollen and break their winter’s fast on nectar is a symphony to which several species of songbirds chirp and trill their endorsements of the season as they flit through the branches overhead.
All of the trails are flat and very easy going. Perfect for a casual walk. Parking is easy as there is a dedicated graveled car park for the site. There are interpretive panels at the entrance but we found their design to be overly clever, to the point of being enigmatic. Best to look up information on this park online if you are curious. A pair of binoculars and a good birding book wouldn’t go amiss either, but the park is completely enjoyable without them.
Peaceful, beautiful and very accessible, La Tourbière de Landmarais is a lovely place to celebrate Spring – or any of the other, lesser, seasons. Maybe we’ll see you there!
Finding Our France 