Brac pronounced Brach. On this island man and stone have always lived and fought each other. Today fewer vineyards burst into leaf on its terraced slopes and, in the spring, fewer lively goats and unruly colts riotously race each other in its grassy vales. Brac is at its most hospitable in summer when it opens up its heart and presents: its small towns, and villages and its coves. In summer, the population doubles on its shores, which stretch for more than a hundred miles. Sage, xeranthemum, heather, lavender and rosemary bushes bloom on its slopes and fill one's nostrils with their scents. A multitude of colors meet the gaze: ripe dog berries, bearberries, barberries, mallow, the swollen fruits of blackthorn, blackberry and mahaleb bushes. The deafening song of crickets chirping tirelessly on the knotty jasmines, junipers and spruces, has given the island its name, "island of crickets".