It is truly magical waking up early and watching the fog lift up, the rising sun weaving through with its transparent glow. Mist has an ethereal quality that fires up the romantic imagination. But here, I feel deep loneliness, yet total communion with this random, filigreed pattern of bare trees.
"Et le paysage à moitié construit à moitié démoli
à moitié réveillé à moitié endormi
s'effondre dans la guerre le malheur et l'oubli
et puis il recommence une fois la guerre finie
il se rebâtit lui-même dans l'ombre
..."
Extrait du poème Le Paysage Changeur par Jacques Prévert
And the landscape half-built half-spoiled
half-awake half-asleep
crumbles in battles tragedy oblivion
and then it starts again when the war is done
it rebuilds itself in the shadow
...
2 comments:
What a beautiful photo Peggy -- and beautiful prose too...
Thanks. That's such a mighty compliment coming from Terry of the Leacock Award fame. Sorry I couldn't participate in your live blog thing. Sounds like you've been so busy... Hey, I miss those chess games but I'm honing my skills so I can have my revenge match!!!
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