Early autumn. The children are back to school, the public benches on the promenade are deserted. The beach huts and the small port tavern are still there but the tourists are gone. The sparrows are all alone, searching for the remnants of summer. As in Francis Cabrel's song, "it's the silence that is most noticeable." All the shutters are down and no small boat is departing from the quay. The atmosphere has changed. We are out of season.