The beauty of the changing of the seasons in Luxembourg. ‘From this to that’, as suggested by Ed
Archive for the ‘Luxembourg’ Category
“Trees are my temples and forests are my cathedrals” Mikhail Gorbachev
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
sharing with Ailsa
In Luxembourg there are few signs that Spring is here. It’s still bitterly cold and showers – more like April showers – continue to pour rain and sleet over the sodden landscape. However, the pollen-laden heads of pussy willow buds brighten the landscape, little beacons of light in the gloom.
This photo has been blended with Kim’s Mondays and I’ve reduced the opacity on the texture layer.
In the south of Luxembourg, between sloping vineyards and the river Moselle at Remerschen, a number of old gravel pits have been turned into a nature reserve with special emphasis on providing a haven for birds. It’s a peaceful place and one to which I return as often as possible.
It’s a shame that so many of these wild places only exist now because they are ‘managed’ in some way.
My friend Jane, a potter, created this figure of a woman from clay dug from her own back garden. Jane was going to set up a time lapse camera to film the weathering and re-claiming of the figure by the grass and weeds back into the bosom of Mother Earth. An example of reverse transformation, perhaps?
You can watch the video of the transformation here.
Transformation suggested by Ailsa.
We were in Northern Cyprus recently. Every day a river of goats flowed past the back door to our bungalow. You could hear them coming long before they arrived because of the bongling of their bells.
Isn’t ‘bongling’ a wonderful word? I first came across it in the book called ‘Driving over lemons’ by Chris Stewart (formerly a drummer with Genesis). It conjures up perfectly, for me, the sound of the bells.
this fountain, in the centre of Luxembourg city, of a shepherd, complete with musical instrument, wine barrel and his flock, commemorates the institution of the Schueberfouer on 20th October 1340 by John the Blind, King of Bohemia and Count of Luxembourg. A fair has been held at the same time every year since then.