The beech grove of the Great Avenue of the Collège de Normandie
Each spring, the park of the Collège de Normandie becomes the stage for a singular spectacle. The great beeches, regaining their brown buds and tender green leaves, come alive with incessant cawing. It is here, atop these giants, that the crows build their nests, and it is here that the "déjuqueux"—extreme nest-raiders—venture.
On Sundays, while work ceases in the fields and factories, audacity takes over. Harel, a roofing worker who knows no vertigo, and his companion Vatrin, decide to go "à cornailles" (crow-hunting). Their equipment is makeshift: a small, half-rotten ladder, grappling hooks, a long hooked pole, and, for lack of a rope, Vatrin’s simple red belt to serve as a safety line.
The exercise is treacherous. Harel leans his ladder against the smooth trunk of a majestic beech. Once the first rungs are cleared, he embraces the trunk and progresses by sheer wrist strength, digging his hooks into the bark. As he rises toward the "coupeau" (the treetop), the branches bend under his weight, while the males circle above him in a cacophony of cries.
Upon reaching the nests, Harel dislodges the fledglings, still unable to fly and made of down rather than feathers. He tosses these "black masses" to his companions waiting on the ground. Below, Vatrin and his sister gather the victims and tie them by the legs in bunches of five. In this scene of rural life, pity has little room: the birds are left there, quivering—a testimony to a harsh peasant soul focused on survival and gain.
The descent proves even more difficult than the ascent. Pressed against the trunk, Harel must manoeuvre with his belt to clear the empty spaces between branches. Despite warnings of mortal danger, the raider boasts. Though he hopes to earn a few pence from his catch the next day in Monville, his true motivation lies elsewhere. When questioned about the sense of risking his life for simple birds, he replies philosophically: "When you work for your pleasure, it’s a different story altogether!".
This tableau, immortalised by Maurice Homais, reminds us of an era when tradition and a taste for risk merged within the foliage of Mont-Cauvaire.