vendredi saint

April 6, 2012

In Puissalicon, near Magalas, the rain cleared offering an opportunity to walk and enjoy the La Boucle des Croix – apposite for this day of the Easter weekend. The walk  is a gentle 6 kms stroll around the environs and takes the visitor passed each of the crosses – part of the pilgrims journey – erected in the 1800’s. The town is a good example of medieval town planning typical of Languedoc and is constructed around the circular shape of the ancient ramparts.  The old town is situated between 7 hillocks, collines or puech where now screens of greenery separate vineyards and the garigue landscape.  Turrets of the château rise above the streets of the village (above)  and Cercis siliquastrum (below) is flowering all over this region – wild in the countryside and cultivated in gardens. Judas Iscariot  supposedly hanged himself in a cercis treee after betraying Christ. The flowers are edible either raw or cooked but don’t take my word for it! 

Gorgeous spreads of iris are flowering now too – wonderful around the base of olives. And in their most natural position thrusting out of dry stone walls around vineyards alongside wild white flowering rocket,  euphorbia and poppies. Quince and almond trees are in full blossom above the paths and tracks through the vineyard trail. And ultimate delight, a banksia rose, early in flower, cascaded overhead – bliss!

Yellow flowering rocket – bitter but, oh so tasty, runs around with Geranium pratense as a herb layer below the vines which are just starting to sprout a light green fringe of foliage . . .

 . . .  a carved pedestal and one of the crosses on the route. La Tour Romane, 11 C , remains of the Priory of St Etienne de Pezan is a powerful landmark.

Back at the start and/or the finish of the walk at the Église Notre Dame de Pitié where this afternoon the priest is busy organising his Easter programme.  Happy Easter from this lovely region.


And God held in his hand
A small globe. Look, he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, a river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.  R S Thomas   The Coming

3 Responses to “vendredi saint”

  1. Sinclair 3168 Says:

    What beautiful photos. Happy Easter!

  2. woodlandpigs Says:

    Beautiful, calming and inspiring, as ever x

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