Today is May 1st which is a bank holiday in France. It is the date of the French Labor Day and apparently it is also a day where people give each other bouquets of Lily of the Valley. Last year, I remember seeing a boy outside of the town restaurant with a little stand, selling bouquets of my favorite flower.

Today, I woke after a great sleep (as my sleeps go) and decided to take Sophie on an early walk. I tucked a couple of euro coins in my pocket in case I found that boy and his flower stand again. Just as soon as we opened the front door and started out, there was a loud boom. It sounded like it was far off towards Ernée but Sophie did not like it. She heard a second about 30 seconds later, and stopped hard on her heels refusing to walk further. I tried tricking her and switching direction but she was not having it. She heard the sound (which repeated every 30 seconds or so), looked up at me and pulled back. She wanted to go home. I wasn’t willing to allow her to be in charge.

What was unnerving is the sound was reminiscent of a sound I heard in my living room nearly forty years ago. It was the loud, flat, and hollow sound of a single gun shot. It occurred to me that a farmer might be practicing or that it might be part of some holiday observance. As forcefully as I walked with Sophie, reassuring her, I also was vigilant and a little bit afraid. That sound has special meaning for someone who has been a victim of gun violence. I often am more likely to construe innocent target practice as something more sinister.

I walked and pulled Sophie in a reverse pattern of our walking route. The sound kept up and I was relieved to see a couple of older men fishing by the pond. It made me feel good to see that people weren’t running for protection, pulling their iron shutters down, and sheltering in place. What happened to me when I was a kid was very unusual but now in this crazy world, the sound of gun fire has taken on a more generalized threatening vibe. The phrase “active shooter” was not one I knew when I was young but today, it is prevalent and unfortunately a fear of many.

I am happy to report that we were able to finish our walk without incident. Eventually the sound stopped and Sophie reluctantly followed close behind me off leash. I can’t deny that I was relieved to get inside. My chest felt tight and an old wound throbbed. I guess that’s what old wounds do.