“Regarde la lumière,” Remi and I will often call out to one another these days. We are talking about that last shot of good gold that bounces off the rooftop visible from both of our desks separated by a thin wall. We have the same view and more often than not, the same point of view too.
Last night after a moment of mutual silent admiring, I fed Ben quickly, grabbed my camera and wrapped myself up like a moving mummy to head out into the cold.
You see, I have been under the weather. Not to worry, I haven’t succumbed yet to the terrible rounds of flu treason that have been roaming the earth but I am fighting off a what they call here a gastro or stomach bug. As a result of some of our more exotic travels to precarious places, I like to think that I have an iron skillet stomach but I still succumb to waves of grogginess, ones that leave me slightly separated, as if I were looking at the world behind the branches of a barren tree…
or on the other side of bars that are nothing like a prison…
…for it can be pleasant not to fight it, this sweet sleep-walking…
…following light’s lure…
…and soft fade of winter.
I stop to regard a captured star…
Ben sits on top of my feet patient and looking out.
The longer we stay, the more my eyes calm…rough forms turn elegant…
…and I wonder at those monuments that I have looked upon a thousand times before.
At the lights last whisper, I listen and turn to look down the old cardo, this same Roman road.
The trees.
They protect.
Give comfort.
And somehow are more beautiful to me on this winter’s evening than ever a summer day.
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend…
You have truely caught that special light here. Although I am not a photographer or even a serious painter the light in southern France is amazing. One my very first evening of the very first time I was in France, it was the light that captured my imagination. It seems to have a body and a feeling all its own. You have captured it beautifully here!
Wow Heather, I know I always say the same but…your pictures are WOW! You really are able to transmit through your images the mood you describe.
And you couldn't have chosen a better piece of music to accompany them…pure relaxation!
Beautiful!
Sylvia S.
I had a premonition that you were under the weather somehow — which is why I checked out your site and found this! The winter sky takes a little more work to appreciate, I think, but it almost always rewards. I try to remember to look up from under my hood when I take Karina out after dark. I'll be shivering, but the winter sky provides a big reward.
And I can't get the video to play. In fact it is the third one today, including the one on my own site, that I haven't been able to access, though they seem to work fine on Youtube. Any idea what gives?
Take care, feel better soon! xox
Heather
we adored the present of a link that you left at our place!
wow.
memories came flooding back of boys with eyeliner and smirks and back-combed hair and nonsense. such fun.
take care of that gastro!
it's scary how quickly things go around the planet these days……
and then lovely when they happen to be links that bring-memories – like yours did just now.
waving from the couch, a little less weakly than earlier.
_tg xx
You've captured l'heure bleue so beautifully. The etching of bare branches against the sky and against stone is lovely. I hope the walk and the meditation on beauty (accomplished with the help of your camera) has helped to aid your healing.
This is a delightful stroll through Arles that captures what most of us are in too much of a hurry to see for ourselves. Your color in the lamp in the last shot is exquisite! I really enjoy your photo outings, please don't stop.
Beautiful, peaceful images…
I love that last shot of gold, H.
You are so the kind of soul who would stop to regard a captured star. Lovely.
Hello Heather:
Once more you capture with your wonderful images those instances of light, whether natural or man-made, which are so abundant at this time of year, where the cold adds clarity to our world, and which somehow or other in warmer months fail to make an impression, escape our notice or, more likely, are not to be found at all. What is so very special is that moment when the sky, even the very buildings, are tinged with gold, suffused at times with pink, which they must have been, particularly in your part of the world, for centuries past.
And now you must rid yourself of that beastly bug.
What amazing pictures you take. I wish I had to eye to capture the beauty of bare trees & walls the way you show them. Hope you will be back on form soon. In our home it's been the flu, so you have my sympathy. Take care & get well soon. At least you have blue sky to help cheer you up. Here in the Limousin, it's cold, wet & grey, please hurry up springtime.