A whole month

I don't believe I have a proper excuse.  I had to go back to France to see to the house and that was a problem, a hurdle that seemed to grow larger with each day that passed.  In the event, it wasn't as distressing as I expected, I think because the house has happy memories going back all the 10 years since we first looked at the ruin it then was and decided it was our dream home.

French inheritance laws are a nightmare so I set off with every certificate I have ever owned up to and including the cat's vaccination certificates.  I'm not sure why those came too, because he didn't accompany me on this trip, but you just never know. However it all became unnecessary when we discovered that the notaire (lawyer) who drew up the original purchase documents decided, I assume, he's help me out by giving ownership to our sons.  How he managed to do this without feeling the need to let us know, I'm not at all sure.

So there I am, over there to put the house up for sale and it turns out I have no house to sell.  This has required a massive rethink. 

The indecision hasn't been helped by the beautiful warm sunny spring weather we had over there.  The garden and river looked especially good.

Can I really leave all that behind?

Though driving through Paris on the way home could have changed all those thoughts.  First the traffic jams (of a continuous nature):

and then the startling sight of a shanty town on the city's outskirts.

They don't advertise the "bidonvilles" in the tourist guides.  Seeing this make me count my blessings.

Sparkling water

We haven't had much bright sunshine this winter so when I saw the light shining off the flat surface of the water through the twigs, I had to take this picture.  It looks better enlarged but it doesn't capture the full sparkle properly.

A two-in-one post for the Photo Hunts.

Branches of trees

My second Photo Hunt post for this week because I failed to find a way to tie the themes together.

I love trees in the winter when you can see the shape of their branches clearly against the sky, especially beautiful at sunset..

Covered in snow they look beautiful too though - fairly fortunately for me - I haven't seen any like this at all this winter.

Sadly we've seen a lot of branches where they shouldn't be, in the river which has burst its banks and stayed high for the last month or so.  Maybe the snow is preferable.

Still rising

Worse than dreich.  After a week of frquent showers it rained for 36 hours continuously.  It has been worse but there is more rain forecast.  No walk for me today.

I remember the floods of 2008 but, after looking at the graph, I'm very glad to have missed 1960.  It all looks very interesting from a certain distance but get a little closer and the power of the water rushing past is quite frightening.

Reflections on my river

"My" river I call it, the place I go to think.  In some ways it's always the same - a dependable presence - but in other ways constantly changing.  I was looking for an AA Milne quote about leaning from a bridge and came across quite a few other that appealed to me.  Some very apt, others just made me smile.


"Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known."
~ AA Milne

"Sit by a river.  Find peace and meaning in the rhythm of the lifeblood of the Earth."
~Author Unknown

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."
~ Heraclitus

"The logs of wood which move down the river together are driven apart by every wave. Such inevitable parting Should not be the cause of misery."
~ Nagarjuna

"Between flattery and admiration there often flows a river of contempt."
~ Minna Antrim

" 'The River Styx,' Annabeth murmured. 'It's so...'
'Polluted,' Charon said. 'For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across - hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."
~ Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief

"Our trouble is that we drink too much tea. I see in this the slow revenge of the Orient, which has diverted the Yellow River down our throats."
~ J B Priestley

"Denial is much more then an Egyptian River."
~ Mark Twain

Argenton sur Creuse

Argenton lies on the river Creuse in the centre of France.  It has two and a half bridges: one old, one new, and one ruined.  The ruined one is probably not even a half because you can't see it if the river is high.

The old bridge

The old bridge was built in the Middle Ages when the old town spread from the hill on the left bank to the right.  Traffic still uses it.

The new bridge

The new bridge doesn't have a great deal going for it apart from reflections in the river.  It does offer some lovely views of the riverside houses.

Right bank

Argenton is occasionally referred to as the Venice of the Berry region, a French region pre-dating the current ones, but that seems something of a stretch.  However, I can't deny the houses are picturesque.  The church in the background is St Saveur.  The origins of St Saveur probably date to the 13th century but the bell tower you can see is much more recent.

Left bank

On the opposite side is the hill where the oldest part of the town lies.  The nearest church is the 15-16th century Chapelle Saint Benoit, now an exhibition centre.  At the top of the hill is a massive statue of La Bonne Dame above a chapel of the same name, built on the remains of a 2nd century sanctuary.  The Bonne Dame d'Argenton is revered as having protected the town from the plague in 1632.

The banks of the river are lined with old buildings and mills because Argenton's prosperity grew in the 13th century from flour mills and especially bark mills right up until the 19th century.  Bark mills, I had to look it up, are mills that grind up parts of trees into a fine powder used to tan leather.

This mill, shown from two different directions, has been converted into at least two homes as far as I could see.

A 15th century manor house or mansion, hôtel particulier Duperthuis, one of the first in the lower town.  I hope nobody was at home when I peered through the gate to take the picture.  It looks all shuttered up.

A disused mill wheel on the opposite bank.

Some other riverside houses.  And finally, a last look at the old bridge.

Yet the river flows on

Last autumn I first became aware that there were all sorts of works going on down by the river, but I had thought they were more or less finished at that point. I was wrong. By this spring they had done even more.

I was taken aback to see just how far they had gone.  Compare this view of the old mill with the one I showed 18 months ago.

From the bridge it was easier to see the full extent.

In this direction it looked like complete devastation.

It now becomes obvious what it was they were doing to the banks, why there were double rows of wooden stakes.  They have planted between these stakes ...

... alternating willow, looking like an English laid hedge ...

... with rushes.

I still don't know what they plan for the mill itself.  The crack in that wall seems wider than ever, with blue sky clearly visible through it.

It's such a shame that this historic building is falling down.  It dates from the 13th century and has passed through various transformations.  It was a mill for making cloth for the local shirt industry before making electricity, allowing for street lighting before any other towns nearby.  I suspect, though, it will be allowed to disintegrate quietly.  The signs all around clearly say "Keep out". In French of course.

Season of mists

Today dawned clear and cold, another of those days when as soon as the sun's rays touched the river, mists rose. I couldn't resist going out to take some pictures.

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And this last picture to show that I do really know what the poem is about.  One newly picked pear, and one that I didn't notice soon enough.  they are beautifully sweet and juicy, and the birds know it!

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Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.....
... And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core....


If only cars would run on pear juice.

Keeping cool

Six months ago, even two months ago, I could hardly imagine writing this.  But here I am, too hot.  To avoid thinking about it too much, I am looking at fountains and rivers, imagining that cool, cool water.....

Fresh

Fresh water

Fresh growth

Fresh as a daisy

And yellow daisies are fresh too!

The thirsty earth soaks up the rain,
And drinks, and gapes for drink again;
The plants suck in the earth, and are
With constant drinking fresh and fair.

–Abraham Cowley (1618–1667), Anacreon

If you'd like to join in the PhotoHunt, and find other other players, pay a visit to TNchick's site where you can find out more.