Your children will rush to our cherry trees, fig trees and hedges filled with brambles so that you will take back with you a few jars of tasty jams
A family trail starts at the street corner inviting you to discover the small treasures of lime landscapes of the Suin valley:
Family trail ( réf : TERRE SAUVAGE : « un autre regard sur la nature » n°249 mai 2009 )
« A street ending in a cherry orchard, a dry grass prairie with wild orchids, a dry stream which you will wade across : you are in the heart of the mysterious Suin valley »...
"A  tawny silhouette scurries away : we spot a fleeting deer which does not give us time to admire him.  We wade across the stream with our boots with limestone rocks polished by passing herds under our feet. At a clearing edge, a massive stone cross would offer yesteryear travellers a heavenly resort…"

The Suin runs through Tournon Saint Martin enriching it with landscape sub entities with high vegetation. It has always been a fabulous and mysterious stream.
In its upper part, the river flows through the swamps of the Brenne.
When exiting Douadic, it gets lost in multiple chasms which normally soak up all its water.
The deep valley which it flowed into is carved in limestone
The Suin was once a river like any other one and its abundant water had an even flow.

Le Suin était autrefois une rivière comme les autres et ses eaux abondantes coulaient régulièrement.

Excerpt from : fragmentsdegeographiesacree.hautefort.com

"Today, the same as yesterday, I want to inhale my youth with my heart beating in the strong scent of whistling, wild meadows, meandering streams, pine sawmills near this meaningful place where The Rhône river once disappeared, like a horse ghost under the tombstones of the riverbed. Once rejuvenated by the night of its abysses, he would spring up further away, neighing in the sun."
Jean Tardieu (Mon pays des fleuves cachés, in La part de l'ombre, Poésie/Gallimard, 1972)

Of course the abyss of the Gaules is only a metaphore.
the Salvert château, near Douadic rests against an abyss.
A small river, the Suin, starts its journey through a limestone plateau and like the Rhône of Tardieu, it sometimes disappears.
The landscape it runs through is not like the ponds of the Brenne, it seems as if we were in the South West of France.
In Pouligny Saint-Pierre, the adjoining commune of Douadic, you will walk on a real limestone plateau ; juniper and oak treats are dotted across calcareous grasslands that extend below the white stone hamlets.