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"not restrain, Pitchot!" We must save

And go again ... Up there on Ebrescades, it's time the first plowing. Spring is well watered. the "green" grows thick. On the benches of Cairanne, if we let it, the grass will quickly tu the vines.

"We return the ground to smother the grass nascent, "says Marcel Richaud. It's our way of "weed" . But it takes time and men. And then all jostling at the moment ... "

Hardly time to admire the fantastic views to the east on the Ventoux, he must come down and join the team of busy other side of the village. At the intersection of Post, Marcel was accosted by the elders, who look to take the jeering:

"not restrain, Pitchot!

No risk. The sun is already high. And Day "Pitchot" is far, far away from being finished.