carcassonne and skywards

October 10, 2011

The foliage of a parthenocissus turns colour to acknowledge the change in season seen on the way from the ‘Ville Basse’ (new town) to La Cité (the citadel).  Too many people visiting here – too many to negotiate – too many  to blot out so I look skywards . . .

. .  and, in the distance, another wind farm and there’s quite few in Aude. In the image above, turbines form a misty landmark on the hills . . .  how bizarre – the visual interface of history and modern technology. My eye is caught by the gargoyle cantilevered from the tower . . .

. . .  and down near Place Carnot, two gargoyles seem to talk to each other . . .  time to leave,  and fly off above the clouds. Think and absorb.

Stones huddled on the rampart and men lived on moss from the stones.

Midnight carried a rifle and women no longer gave birth.

Dishonour’s aspect was that of a glass of water.

I was linked to the courage of other beings, I lived violently,

Growing no older, my mystery among theirs,

I shuddered with the existence of all the others

Like an incontinent boat over thinly-divided depths.  René Char Faction du muet

limoux – un beau paysage

October 10, 2011

Walking through the vineyards and then up into the garrigues landscape above La Digne d’Aval offers views to the south. The scrubby planting – holm and kermes oak, viburnum, cistus and sage, lavender and thymes – naturalises itself in a complete contrast to the ordered planting of the vines and olives. It’s an old path – well trodden by animals and humans – that follows the line of the ridge from Tourreilles and Magrie to Limoux.

The name carved on this stone is Therese Balandier Sabouraud, patroness of the village, who expressed a wish to be buried in the woodland at the top of the property of Saint Andrieu. Another relative is Jean de Brunoff, the creator of Babar.

Early evening, down in Limoux, the residents play boule. It helps to have a gauloises or gitanes hanging out of one corner of the mouth . . .  improves your aim . .

. .  as the light falls, the shutters are closed and it’s possible to enjoy the beautiful hinges.

There were some who lived in the dark

Dreaming of the sky’s caress

There were some who loved the forest

And believed in blazing wood

The odour of flowers enchanted them even from afar

The nakedness of their desires clothed them

They fused in their hearts the breath measured

By that slip of ambition in the life of nature

That flourishes in summer like a richer summer

They fused in their hearts hope for the dawning age

That hails another age even from afar

With love more stubborn than the desert

The briefest of slumbers

Delivered them to the future sun

They endured they knew that life perpetuates

And their shadowy needs gave birth to clarity.

They were only a few

Then suddenly a crowd

So it is in every age.  Paul Eluard  Faire Vivre

%d bloggers like this: