mindful

On our recent French pilgrimage, I was fascinated by the yellow fields -- and found myself taking photos of it as we drove by, every day!

Mindful 

by Mary Oliver

Every day

I see or hear

something

that more or less

kills me

with delight,

that leaves me

like a needle

in the haystack

of light.

It was what I was born for -

to look, to listen,

to lose myself

inside this soft world -

to instruct myself

over and over

in joy,

and acclamation.

Nor am I talking

about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,

the very extravagant -

but of the ordinary,

the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.

Oh, good scholar,

I say to myself,

how can you help

but grow wise

with such teachings

as these -

the untrimmable light

of the world,

the ocean's shine,

the prayers that are made

out of grass?

 

Come Holy Spirit!

When the time for Pentecost was fulfilled,

they were all in one place together.

And suddenly there came from the sky

a noise like a strong driving wind,

and it filled the entire house in which they were.

Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire,

which parted and came to rest on each one of them.

And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit

and began to speak in different tongues,

as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim.

~first chapter of Acts 

I continue to be fascinated by the fields of yellow. Like the yellow arrows pointing the way on the Camino de Santiago, the yellow fields lead us from one region of France to the next. 

I won't be able to keep up regular postings this coming week since we're staying in a remote farm house in the Normandy region where the nearest town is actually a village without a church. This is not McDonald territory! As before, we'll be taking day trips to sights in the region, starting with Mont St. Michel tomorrow. 

I have yet to write or post pictures of Chartres Cathedral. As our guide yesterday noted, Chartres is a book. I promise, I will be quoting from this incredible book as soon as I am able. It requires its own individual entry--or five!

Count on my continued prayers for you, in a particular way for any and all special intentions. Today's candle -- at the image of Our Lady of Lourdes at Notre Dame de Vire parish (Vire being the name of the "big town" near the village near our farmhouse). 

 

a hipster Mary, Chaggal, Hitler, a cyclop abbey--and yes, Joan of Arc!

windows by Mark Chaggal

Notre Dame de Reims

Before going into today's treasures from our pilgrimage through the French countryside, I want to share another wonderful image of Mother Mary, from yesterday's visit to Amiens:

I absolutely love her smile and how she's pointing to Jesus as if saying (a very motherly thing), "hey, did you hear what he just said?"  

By the way, I learned that this "style" of pose is called "hipped" because of its posture. How appropriate! I don't know any mother that has not held their young child at some point by posturing the son or daughter on her hip!

Today began with a visit to the Armistice Museum, just outside of our home base of Campaigne. This is where the Germans surrendered to the French at the end of WWI, and where the French surrendered to Hitler as they advanced into France during WWII.  It was quite provocative and 

I'm still pondering emotions from that one.

From there we drove to Soissons, where 80% of the town was destroyed by German artillery at the final retreat of the war. The cathedral itself was so seriously damaged that the Michelin Battlefield Guide declared it "beyond hope of repair" at the end of WWII.  Yet it still stands!

artillery shell on the facade of the cathedral

Also in Soissons, we visited St. Jean desVignes Abbey, or rather -- its remains. Only the facade of the Abbey church remains, but what a sight it is! I've never seen anything like it. It was huge, and still felt alive. Perhaps its because I kept thinking that it looked like a mythical one-eyed cyclop overseeing the valley before it! 

Also, I am obsessed with the vast yellow fields we keep driving by all over the countryside, a crop we think is mustard, although some of the sources I've read call it rape seed -- which turns into rapeseed oil used for cooking oil, paints, animal feed, margarine. All  I know is that I keep taking pictures hoping one will capture its awesomeness, but alas, I don't think it's possible!

As MarySue noted today, our great cathedrals are growing in stature and beauty by the day, like a major crescendo on our great Gothic French cathedrals pilgrimage ! Our finale today was Notre Dame de Reims, dedicated to Our Lady of the Assumption.

 Joan of Arc was everywhere. The Reims Cathedral is where Joan of Arc brought the man who was to be declared King of France--and where a long line of French kings have been coronated. Today we saw Joan in traditional form, and as part of an exhibit by contemporary artist Greg Tricker:

St. Jeanne, la colombé: St. Joan, the dove