Une Journée Français Deux

12th century Chateau Le Barroux. 

From our apartment at Domaine du Crestet, a working vineyard in the village of Crestet, we were in the center of the southern Cotes du Rhone with wineries in every direction. It was our first extended stay in France. As with Baudinard and Sederón there were easy drives to picture book villages atop sloping hills with forever views of fertile valleys, vineyards, olive groves and fields of lavender.

Palais des Papes, Avignon

A window at Saint Paul Asylum, Saint Remy de Provence. It's where Van Gogh was treated and still operates today with a notable art therapy component.

Crestet, set in a valley with its own hilltop citadel, sat between Vaison-la-Romaine, our market town, and Mount Ventoux. In the Dutch owned vineyard, we could wander down a vineyard row to pluck a cluster of Grenache or Syrah grapes for a purloined snack.

Breakwater, Sainte Marie de la Mer.

From Crestet we adventured to Gordes, Cassis, Roussillon, Saint Remy de Provence, Aix en Provence, Avignon, Arles, and Saint Marie de la Mer an hour south of Arles in the Bouche de Rhone or Mouth of the Rhone.

For Peggy the southern Rhone and the Vaucluse are heaven on earth and were we to depart the US it would be her choice for ex-patdom. I’d go with Spain if for no other reason than my serviceable Spanish.

Une Journée Français, Une

Baudinard-sur-Verdon Evening

We’ve learned the hard way that hopscotching from town to town every other night does not inspire creativity. Checking out by 11 every other morning and checking in every other afternoon after three suppresses artistic energy. There’s not enough left after the logistical challenges of travel to wax creative. So, our preferred mode of foreign travel is to rent a house or apartment for a month or more in an appealing and central location and to take two- and three-night trips to other places within, say, a half day drive. It really works in Europe since distances are short by US standards. And let's not forget to use the train between major cities. Trains rock.

Yacht Harbor, Antibes. It's Europe's largest.

Roman Theatre, Orange

So, we establish a home base where we learn the rhythms of our adopted town and try to live like a local. We learn where to get a fresh baguette, a bottle of local wine and a well-served meal. If we’re lucky we make local friends who steepen our learning curve.

This post appears because my January-February entry in Shadow and Light Magazine is titled as above. Une Journée Français in the magazine is a more thorough examination of the home base and short side trips which have proven so illuminating and exciting. We’ll start with Baudinard-sur-Verdon, the second of our month-long French stays.

Roman Arena or Arene, Arles

Abandoned Tanneries, Barjols. Once there were 24 tanneries in the town. The last went bankrupt in 1983 and the town fell into dereliction. It's trying to reinvent itself as a art colony.

The places we could explore from Baudinard and were legion. We visited, painted and photographed a laundry list of important sites including Avignon, Orange, Arles, Cassis, Antibes, Marseille, Moustiers and hidden jewels like Bargeme and Villecroze. 

Far-ranging and contemplative travel shows us that we’re citizens of the larger world. I can’t imagine a greater gift. Immersing oneself in another culture, language and lifestyle is enriching beyond measure. In my long life I’ve enjoyed seven of these month or more experiences and wish I could say fifty. Since time waits for absolutely nobody I’ve got to get cracking don’t I?

The cream rises

San Antonio Chapel, Angel Fire, New Mexico

Here are the rest of the images that occupy my Favorites folder. It’s a wee folder this year. This hasn’t been a high volume year but these and the ones last week did rise to the top.

Nuestra Señora de La Asuncion, Placita, New Mexico

Pump House, Galisteo, New Mexico

Last Light, North Beach, Point Reyes National Seashore

I hit a milestone this year when I reached 900 posts dating back to 2006. Of these 863 were consecutive weeks. My first two years were spotty, with just seven entries in 2006, a few more in 2007 and every week from 2008 onward. Since I didn’t log each week’s entry faithfully, I didn’t recognize the gaudy accomplishment till many weeks later. It was my September birthday present to me. 

I’ve been printing every post for several years. Each year is a four inch thick 3-ring binder of posts. I do like to see my stuff in print. I also order the printed version of each Shadow and Light Magazine to prove I did it. There’s an element of pride in holding every 100-page issue in my hot mitts. My byline Telling Stories in the handsome mag runs 8 to 10 pages. As of today there are 2-1/2 linear feet of the bimonthly publication in my bookcase.

Here’s to a year bursting with creativity, health, adventure and the gift of friends and family. Happy New Year!

Occluded Sun and other fables

Occluded Sun #1

Occluded Sun #2

Ground Fog

2024 was fair to partly cloudy on the photography front. I didn’t photograph much by my sixty-year standard. I know photographers who shoot every day of their lives. The photographer’s alleged creed is to do exactly that. I didn't.

So, it’s time for jaundiced look back with one eye and forward with energy and anticipation with the other. It’s time to inform 2025 with lessons learned from 2024 and the eighty-some-odd years that preceded it. It’s time to pass the baton to a promising, energized and exciting New Year. In January we’ll be in Palm Springs and the Mojave Desert for a week or so followed by a meandering route to the Grand Canyon to pick up paintings. The road beckons. It's widely known that I have to hit the bricks to make a pic.

I’m loath to name these images and the ones that will follow next week as Best so will settle with Favorite. There was just one magic moment last year and that was on the road from Petaluma to Point Reyes Station. I dipped down a shallow hill and was greeted by a verdant valley blanketed by fog. Later I found ample fog at Point Reyes National Seashore as well but ten miles Inland was the gift I didn’t expect to receive. The two glaring sun shots were to be titled in part with the word 'orb.' Then a clever friend used the term 'occluded' to describe the top image. And now I will do the same. Thanks, Jamie.

Adobe and Smoke. That's all for now.

Diagonal Shadow. San Francisco de Asis.

Rocks of Ages, Santuario de Chimayo.

Canal. San Francisco de Asis.

As threatened last week we’ll wind up our examination of sensuous adobes and evocative shadows. Two of the images are from the most photographed edifice in the western world, San Francisco de Asis. The other is of the rocky foundation of the Santuario de Chimayo which has been depicted almost as much. Both were completed in 1816 making them youngsters compared to other Spanish Mission Churches in New Mexico that date back to the late sixteenth century. However, Saint Francis was preceded by another church on the same site about which I find nothing and Santuario de Chimayo was built on the site where a painted wood sculpture of the Christ of Esquipulas miraculously appeared. The year was 1810

Adobe and Smoke, Verticality

Book of Solemnity # 2, San Francisco de Asis

Here's a bevy of verticals, a rarity on these pages. It’s so special I may follow with additional tall images next week as well. This protracted extravaganza is about the shadows caressing the organic adobe forms that abound near Casa Immel. I am blessed by these masterpieces and must doff my sombrero to the Spanish who introduced Spanish Mission Architecture to the wilds of New Mexico in the early 17^th century.

Stairs in Shadow, Acoma Pueblo

 

Verticality, San José de Gracia, Las Trampas

Santa Fe’s San Miguel Chapel was completed in 1628 and is proclaimed to be the oldest church in the United States. Yet, Nuestra Señora de Perpetua in Socorro was built in 1593, so I’m flummoxed. What is incontestable is that the Conquistadores conquered Central America, Mexico and Nuevo Mexico in less than 150 years.

Adobe and Smoke

Adobe and Smoke, Arroyo Seco, New Mexico

Dinner Shadows, Casa Immel. That's a pepper mill, folks.

Feathery Shadows. San Francisco de Asis. Ranchos de Taos.

As has often been the case of late today’s effort is a warmup for an exploration of inky shadows on adobe that may become a Shadow and Light article early next year. Most of the sensuous adobe forms and feathery shadows in the series are from Spanish Colonial Mission Churches in northern New Mexico but today there's just one as captioned. 

This post may set a record for brevity. We’re in repair and maintenance hell here at the Immel Rancho. If it could break it did.