My childhood river is named Santoire. It delimits the world, definitively; in summer it was an immobile slate beach, August afternoons, time stopped in the luminous babbling of its stone bed. Each winter, and brief spring, it was high, in a hurry to get beyond, hastily whipping the stripped, bending branches. Horizontal, insolent and on the run.

This is a selective alphabet book, in which the reader can browse from Apple to Tractor, via Cows, Dogs or Newspapers.

Twenty-six texts compose a poetic homage to a birthplace. The gold and velvet of things remembered. Like a declaration of love repeated twenty-six times.Table of contents: Animals – Autumn – Hay bundles – Clouds – Cows – Dogs – Gardens – Grass –Houses – Knife – Land – Lights – Milk – Mists – Newspaper– Night – Odors – Paths – Pigs– Rivers – Roofs – Shepherd’s Huts - Stones – Tractors – Trees –Winter.