On iron

The Iron Museum in Rouen is a real walk into history. All kind of tools and topics can be seen there. Nothing escapes the collection. it's a gorgeous festival of art and decoration. From the most commons tools for the kitchen to the complex mechanism of lockets. The beautiful keys, the grills that take you in a romantic travel into lovers' conversations and mysterious nunneries.
But we got particularly interested in these great publicity works, the ancestors of our neon advertisements. The beginning of advertising over our heads in the most flourished decoration, here they are

Stained glass windows

Tiny pieces of fragile colour, turning the light into reflection. Filtering the outside reality, making us to turn and see the shades in ourselves.

Inscriptions

I like looking for inscriptions and announcements, names of streets, shops, restaurants even. They can have their own charm, tell their own stories.
Like this one: my favourite.

Mild November

This is Herastrau Park on a mild and restful November afternoon. The autumn has been gentle with us this year, a long, nostalgic, colourful autumn. It's a pity it will end soon, and all these shades will be covered with snow, all the last flowers will freeze. But, this is how it goes.

More neighbours

They are here, near us. Sometimes shy, scared, or cheeky.
Do we see them in our every-day rush? Do we understand we share this place we live in with these furry or feathery neighbours? Do we treat them as we should?

A rainy evening walk

Despite the dark rainy evening ahead, I put on my boots, my waterproof jacket and hat and went out into the street. It was already raining, a thin curtain of rain surrounded me. I walked energetically to avoid cold, although I wouldn't say it was cold.
My steps took me to the Hervencias park with its pond. and there they were: this family of white swams. The peacefully cross the small pond from one side to the other under the careful surveillance of the big one. Perhaps the mother.
I stopped to look and them. The rain got stronger and snowy and I kept on walking under my umbrella.
When I came back the swams were doing exactly the same. Was it a kind of lesson?
How intelligent of them to move and move before getting into their liittle house! They won't be cold tonight.
Sleep well, creatures of our towns, sleep well.

More windows

Here are more, each one with its own feeling:
One playful, in a puppets house.

One misterious, in a very old building.

Cozy and inviting.
Typical, looking like a ginger-bread house.

Solemn and strangely lit.

One on "Rue de la Prison", maybe frightening once, but not today.