NOTES FROM AN ABANDONED VILLAGE

I'm still asking: Where and why did they go? Here is the story: the Bories village is composed of seven groupings of huts, each having a very precise function: houses, stables, barns, goat shelters, tanning mills, bake houses - the whole social and economic system build laboriously from limestone, and it all was abandoned by its inhabitants about 150 years ago. Classified as a Historical Monument by the French Government, it includes an impressive collection of archived documents none of which tells WHY??? The Bories village in France isn't the only abandoned place on Earth: Brochs, Trullis, Cabanes, Cleits, Giren are scattered around the world. Wherever you spot them, you are hit by the patience and dexterity of those who created them and the enigma that surrounds their abandonment. Visiting abandoned places - ancient but also modern - is becoming more and more popular tourism nowadays. Ghost towns in the former USSR and in the US, orphaned mine sites in Canada, post-Chernobyl villages attract by their macabre beauty. As the DirJournal blog says, "There are mainly two reasons why people suddenly or little by little leave the place where they used to live for years or even generations: that's the danger and economic factors."
My blog is dedicated to
"These were thy charms - but all these charms are fled."
Oliver Goldsmith, "The Deserted Village"

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Verbal Images: Water





















"I raised the bucket to his lips. He drank, his eyes closed. It was as sweet as some special festival treat. This water was indeed a different thing from ordinary nourishment. Its sweetness was born of the walk under the stars, the song of the pulley, the effort of my arms. It was good for the heart, like a present. When I was a little boy, the lights of the Christmas tree, the music of the Midnight Mass, the tenderness of smiling faces, used to make up, so, the radiance of the gifts I received."

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince, Chapter XXV

"J'ai porté le seau jusqu'à ces lèvres. Il but, les yeux fermés. C'était doux comme une fête. Cette eau était bien autre chose qu'un aliment. Elle était née de la marche sous les étoiles, du chant de la poulie, de l'effort de mes bras. Elle était bonne pour le coeur, comme un cadeau. Lorsque j'étais petit garçon, la lumière de l'arbre de Noël, la musique de la messe de minuit, la douceur des sourires faisaient, ainsi, tout le rayonnement du cadeau de Noël que je recevais."



4 comments:

  1. It is a perfect picture, so funny! Your cat looks absolutely wicked. What is his (her) name?

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  2. Oh yes, "wicked" is a perfect word! The cat's name is Max, he is a member of my personal Board of Directors (for the reason see post "My Board of Directors". Max is an every day multi reminder: love is unconditional.

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  3. I had a cat named Max (Max-a-million) once. He wasn't nearly that cute!

    Emma

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