So different and always the same, the eyes of the house.
Where Corneille was born. These windows will have witness lots of creative moments.
These flower-pots on windows are, almost always, female reflections.
A real treasure must be kept behind this beautiful window.
Windows are the eyes of the town. They hide and show at the same time. They are dual.
Here are our hosts, Audrey and James, speaking Romanian. And very well, too!
Good job!
Here are just a few of the scenes that stayed in my heart after the visit to France. I will keep in mind the spring-like light and the thin veil of the mist, the rain and the sun, the sound of the sea, the taste of the delicious food, the flavours of this beautiful place.
More photos in the TS photogallery...and more to come.
For a comparison, here is how our autumn looks so far: golden, with a honey-like light, with a bitterish smell of dead leaves and smoke. Strange, how each season has its own smell. Very typical and very strong: you get out of the house and all you can say is :"It smells like winter (or autumn, or spring). " The winter has a cold, metallic smell, like snow and frost; the spring a sweeter one, full of hope, like a warm breeze and the autumn a melancholic one.
Here is a nice song called :Emotie de toamna" ("Autumn Emotion"). The lyrics belong to one of our greatest modern poets, Nichita Stanescu. It mainly says that this is the season when we most need tenderness, the shelter the others can offer, to fight our fears.
For a dry town, autumn showers are a present although streets get empty. But the air is cleaner, the smell fresher and the walk nicer. This is how my street looked on Monday morning.
I went into the Water House to see a picture exhibition and to take shelter from the heavy rain. And I saw this machine that was used to take water out of wells.
And one of the most popular streets in Ávila: The Life and Death Street2, completely empty. Just the man that is crossing.
But it was a peaceful autumn walk.
Your statue reminded me of this one, both in its shape and in its connection to our ancestors. You may know it from another material and you have all passed it on your way from the airport during your visit to Bucharest, but it deserves a story of its own.
It's the copy of the "Lupa Capitolina" and this is why it's very important to our town. First of all, it's the symbol of our Latin origin, that we are very proud of, although it was not easy during the centuries being an isolated Latin spot in this distant corner of Europe, so different from our neighbours. This origin was denied many times throughout our history, for various political reasons, and we were forced to defend it. And, as it happens, the more you have to fight for a thing, the more you value it.
The statue is also dear to us because it was a gift from the town of Rome in 1906, on the anniversary of 1800 years since the Roman conquest. It's like a recognition, like a brotherhood sign. And I know there are copies in France and in Spain, too.
Moreover, similar statues were presented a few years later to two other important towns in our country: Cluj, in Transylvania and Chisinau, in Basarabia, two parts of Romania that were longtime torn from our territory and were then coming back to us. This is another symbol: of unity.
The statue has been placed in more than one place in the town, and it has even dissapeared after the Revolution, but it was recovered and it now stands in the Roman Square, the most appropriate for it, by me.
I particularly love it and I wish to it, just as I wish for your "citizen", to be heard.
This "verraco" could be one of the oldest inhabitants in the town. There are several like it in the shadow in parks, gardens. Even in private yards. These stone sculptures are representations of the art of our ancestors: the vettons.
This one has been hidden in a small wood hut in his corner. The palace façade has been on reparations for at least three years. While scafolds and workers were around, the animal kept silence.
But all of a sudden, without any noise our verraco appeared. Now, he has more stories to tell.
Will we be able to hear him?
Welcome home, citizen.
