Wild Boar
We walk, they see us, invisible presences to our senses as city dwellers. Just maybe we hear a crackling sound, or we see their traces where they have turned and rooted through the earth on the edges of the forest paths. However, I remember four adorable young boars that I saw as they played, carefree, around the Neuville pond. Armed members of the Neuville hunting society blocked the access road in order to shoot them. I didn’t understand why they would do this but the hunters said "they are the result of a mating between a wild sow and a domestic pig, we don’t know who released them or discovered them and they are potentially dangerous for walkers".
When I got home I heard 3 gunshots, one of the young boars must have escaped
My founder, on finishing the patina of the sculpture, said teasingly that it evoked the flavor of their meat. I made my little tribute to these four innocents. A mother is a mother.
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