Sunday, June 15, 2014

Landevennec again, sermons in stones





































(That's Tom in the distance. I think the earlier fellow is St Guénolé, who has an even better Cornish/Welsh name, St Winwaloe.)

14 comments:

polish chick said...

wow. there is something comforting in seeing nature take over, change, write palimpsests on our stone.

Lyse said...

Tu as l'art de la photo Lucy! J'aime beaucoup ces vieilles pierres. L'abbaye que tu as visité là est une merveille d'architecture et son histoire est intéressante à connaître .

marja-leena said...

One of my favourite subjects! Gorgeous photos of truly amazing stones, man-made and taken over by nature (as polish chick already said).

Rouchswalwe said...

Wow! Living stone in communication with nature. In the one photograph, he looks as though he has a little bouquet in his hand. These are wonderful. I can hear the wind and the rain sculpting the stone and the growing things holding on to the crevices and surfaces of the rock for dear life.

Natalie d'Arbeloff said...

Stunning images, Lucy. Moi aussi j'aime ces vielles pierres. And you have the gift of choosing exactly the right details to capture.

Roderick Robinson said...

Tom in a coat! Verily, verily the Octagon can simultaneously encompass a huge range of temperatures. One day here the thermometer dropped all the way down to 24 deg C and we started sniffling.

Lucas said...

These stone pictures are like tales, old and full of contrasts, yet fresh with today's new angle, new light. Sermons in stone is a great title for this sequence and also a great title.

Fire Bird said...

A feast of juxtapositions. I like everything about these photographs

Zhoen said...

Living stone.

Roderick Robinson said...

The Mistral is similar to the Tramontana (see my most recent post) except that it flows down the Rhone valley rather than sidling in from the north-west over Languedoc. Both are winds that have driven people mad. Once I had a Scirocco (car); the eponymous wind flows in the opposite direction and sometimes brings sand with it. So you go mad and are abraded into the bargain. A horrible fate.

Roderick Robinson said...

Sorry, Luce. That comment above was intended for Rouchswalwe's blog. If you can make it fit your post I'd be more than appreciative.

Isabelle said...

It's all beautiful now, but wouldn't you love a bit of magic to allow you to see what it looked like when it was first finished...?

HKatz said...

When I looked through the post, words from Joyce popped into my head: "tellmetale of stem or stone."

I like this ravaged stone, especially the face of the sculpture with an eye disappearing, and the expression on the face resigned, sad but accepting.

Peter said...

Your title made me even more open to hearing from these pictures. Thanks for several hearty sermonettes from your stunning friends.