“Why don’t you write more about the Rhone?” Remi asked one day while I was putting together yet another post rhapsodizing over the inherent power of the crumbly remnants of time. “What do you mean?” I tossed back with a casual tilt then scratch of my cheek. “The Rhone,” he repeated flatly. I blinked and tried to look winsome.
Yes, I know it is the reason why Arles exists, why Arelate or “town above the marshy lands” became so powerful in Roman times. Because a river runs through it. While preparing my first guided tour–given recently to an indescribably lovely group of Australian readers of this blog–its importance was a key thread of the conversation. Having the southern-most bridge before the Mediterranean while intersecting on the roads to Italy and Spain, it was the crossroads of Gaul. Spices and exotic goods came in, jars of wine, olive oil and fish flowed out, offering wealth for all involved. Times have changed–its days as an important port ending abruptly with the arrival of train transportation–but the river’s appeal has not.
I love the Rhone deeply. I stroll the recently renovated quay with Ben, my Golden Retriever nearly every day and I am not alone. It is one of the social centers of the city, where one can be lost in thought or cling laughingly to the arm of a companion. It is ever-changing depending on the light, the time of day, the season and roil of the current. Vincent Van Gogh painted it often, also drawn to its mercurial nature.
Which, I realized this morning is exactly why I don’t mention it more frequently despite it’s being such an important part of our daily lives in Arles–parce que le fleuve coule, it slips through my fingers. I can’t capture it in words or images in any way that is satisfactory to me but I can try. I grabbed my camera, called my faithful canine companion and headed out the door.
The Rhone is not neutral, it is nature. The Mistral winds can gather enough force off the winter waves to knock a strong man down. In 2003, the river rose with the rains to kiss the underside of the bridge, spilling over the banks and leaving many homeless for months. But I prefer to focus on all it gives. It is where I have gone on my darkest days, confident that the tide would pull my worries away and where Remi and I walked to celebrate buying our first house here, one whose roof terrace looked onto its shimmering surface. Perhaps that is why the Rhone makes Arles synonymous with home. It is hard to imagine living without it.
The last time I was there, the might mistral was blowing freezing winds along the Rhone – brrrrr!!!! It looks much more inviting now; good thing I am coming there IN EIGHTEEN DAYS to enjoy it in the summer!!!!!!! And, yes, let's put a "welcome to Arles" sign around Ben's neck and greet other visitors! : )
Was just reading your response to Debra – I had no idea Arles was the largest city in France (land-wise)! It was lovely to see the water today – such a powerful part of the region in , as you say, so many ways. And also nice to see so many of my blogging friends connecting – I see Jeanne and you are now well acquainted as well – isn't it amazing how small the world becomes?!
Mais oui, bien sur! Aujourd'hui, je pense, oui, the bend in la Seine ou la Rhone, etc., the river slows, an almost circular geography terre et eau. Et voila, vous dit la meme. C'est toujours l'eau, n'est pas? I'm going with that!
So interesting…for me to hear of, and you to live close to the cradle of civilization and the milieu of that totality today.
The 'bridge' info, truly, is amazing considering the same solution still exists today, in sophisticated places like Seattle.
I love what you write…the layers are present there as well.
A la prochaine. Merci pour votre reponse!
xoxo, Chris
When Ben was younger, I used to joke that I was going to put a little sign on him saying "Welcome to Arles!" especially as he approaches all and sundry with a wagging tail and his goofy smile. And yes, you are so right! The more that I look over this post, the less happy I am with it but happily I can attack it another time.
Hooray! You know how much I was hoping to hear this. Because yes, your work really makes many people happy–I see it all over your comments and feel it myself. It goes straight to the heart. And I know that the blogging community will back you up in a big way for whatever you decide to do. Not that you would even need the extra push with all of your marketing skills but it can't hurt.
But I am equally pleased to hear that you are giving yourself the huge gift of time to breathe a bit. Have you ever seen "The Artist's Way"? That might actually be interesting for you to do this summer. I have done it twice during key turning points in my life and it really helped on many levels. Anyway, she talks about the importance of refilling the well and that is exactly what you can do now after having depleted it for 20 years!
Big hugs right back at you and know that I am supporting in you in all of your efforts when you do go forward. 🙂
Leslie, thank you for this lovely response! My oh my, that sounds like Heaven–a summer picnic with the puppers on an isolated beach! Wow. To have our own boat is one of the many dreamy dreams (as in far off) that Remi and I have. Lots of folks do here and go exploring the Calanques near Cassis. Have you ever heard of it? This will give you a tiny idea: http://www.destination360.com/europe/france/marseille/calanques
Sadly, the Rhone is far, far too polluted for Ben to be able to swim in it. 🙁 We take him to the beach for that!
I think that exploring the rivers of Europe would be a wonderful trip! But you can always explore them by water too. I haven't done it but know that there are often boats to rent for both bigger excursions or something as simple (for you) as the Canal du Midi–people often rave about that. Don't hesitate to contact me if you want further ideas.
One last thing–I am fascinated by your town! I proposed doing a story on the food trucks years and years ago (before we heard about them everywhere) but it didn't happen. Something to look forward to!
That made me say "Oh my" out loud! I love that. More photos from your walks please!!!
Hello Debra! Believe it or not, Arles is the largest city in France land-wise–it is takes up ten times the space of Paris!! And as for the history, I really need to write more about it because it is fascinating!
xo!
Heather, that first photo just brought the biggest smile to my face. Ben, I think, should star in an advertising campaign for visiting the land of the Rhone. Isn't it interesting how some of the things that wear the most familiar paths in our lives are the hardest to write/capture/speak about?
I wanted to make sure to thank you for all of the kind comments and cheers you've left for me on my blog and to answer your question about whether I'll be doing something with my art. The short answer is, yes! I do want to develop that side of what I love to do. It makes me happy, it seems to make others happy, too, so hopefully I can build something there. But first. The big plan is to do a little bit of nothing. At least until fall. I've signed up for a blog class here, an art class there. But mostly I long to loaf. I've done very little of that in the past 20 something years. So a few months of precious laziness, and in September I'll start making some concrete plans. And until then, all the wonderful encouragement from people out there like you means an awful lot to me. So big hugs and many, many thanks to you! XOXO
Thank you for this wonderful post. It brought the portion of the Rhone that flows through Arles right to us. What a gift you give your readers!
I live in Portland, Oregon, at the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia Rivers. With Henry, our 9-year-old Golden Retriever, and Bob, our 6-year-old long-haired dachshund, my husband and I boat on those rivers, usually picnicing on an isolated stretch of sand on the Columbia and swimming with the dogs, most summer evenings. All four of us have so much fun in the river. Do you and/or Ben like to go in the water of the Rhone?
The Columbia is a mighty river, but it, of course, does not run through the loveliness of an old European town or city. Thanks to your inspiring words and photographs, I think that our next trips to Europe will focus on exploring the great rivers from land.
Your admiring reader Leslie
The Rhone is so big! And you captured its moodiness in both the words and the photos. I like that now I can think of you and Ben taking your walk by the river that once was "the crossroads of Gaul," while Karina and I are taking our daily constitutional in the woods where Thoreau once roamed.