Ina Caro on Chartres Cathedrale

(New Book Bento on Instagram)

While I've been laid up, 

I've been reading Ina Caro's Paris to the Past,

her wonderful book about Paris day trips by train to historical sites. 

Caro tells an interesting story about the building of Chartres,

one of our favorite cathedrals in all of France.

On June 10th, 1194, the areas of the church that the bishop had wanted replaced

mysteriously burned (along with much of the city),

 the most precious and expensive parts of the church being left untouched. 

The people of the town were terrified, thinking that the church's holy relic,

the Sancta Camisia, the tunic it was believed Mary wore while giving birth to Christ,

had burned. The townspeople not only believed that the relic had kept them safe,

(after being displayed on one of the ramparts before a raid that never happened),

but had also made them wealthy. Thinking it was gone, many were preparing to leave. 

So in his bid to implore the people for funds to rebuild the church,

the bishop started a procession through the town with the saved relic

which had been kept in the surviving crypt. 

He told them it was a sign that Mary wanted a new cathedral to house the relic. 

The funding and the building began. 

And were completed thirty years later. 

(Labyrinth outside behind the church)

Caro also mentions the cathedral's interior labyrinth

which is usually very difficult to get a photo of as it's covered most of the year. 

But while she was there, it was uncovered and visible

as pilgrims walked it on their knees. 

Malcolm Miller, the tour guide who has been giving daily English tours 

(except Sundays) since 1958, replied, upon being questioned about their actions,

that it was because it was the Summer Solstice.

So if you've been wanting to get a good look at the labyrinth,

 you now know when to go. 

According to Caro, the labyrinth is walked by modern pilgrims

as a symbolic pilgrimage meant to symbolize the twists and turns of life.

The Chartres labyrinth has no dead ends.

And they walk it together to symbolize that we are all in this (life) together. 

(15th Century clock and tower)

We've been to Chartres 4-5 times, often taking friends and visitors when we're in France. 

One of the last times was with Ed's parents who are both gone now 

so I can't think of it without remembering the sweet afternoon we spent roaming the cathedral

and having lunch at a little place across the street. 

We've done a couple of tours with Malcolm Miller and have indeed found him

as Caro describes him, 

"with snide but hilarious comments... humor and bitter sarcasm..."

One bit of humor he shared with us was a comment made by a member of his tour audience:

Something along the lines of... 

'My mother did the tour 20 years ago but it was a different tour guide then 

because he had dark hair.'

(Wisteria growing alongside the cathedral)

If you are interested in a tour with Malcolm Miller,

the website states that he still does tours every day but Sundays

From Easter to end of October at Noon and 2:45 

and from November until Easter one lecture only at Noon

(if there are 8 or more interested and he is in residence.)

You can also get his book Chartres Cathedral HERE. 

And Ina Caro's book HERE.

Chartres Cathedral website is HERE.

(Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Ode to October

Ode to October

As I sit among the oaks

in the warm October sun

and the turning leaves twist and dance before me

out above the meadow

a lone, silky spider's thread

sails along a breeze,

visible only for a moment

in a crystal flash of sunlight.

Moss sways in trailing rivulets

like the dreadlocks of a forest nymph

matted with twigs and leaves

and soon to be dripping with winter's tears.

The last of the season's dragonflies hover and dart

and now in the sun's path,

hundreds of gleaming, powder-white objects swarm,

basking in the sun's cloak of radiance,

invisible just a moment before.

The scent in the shadowed places
reeks of summer's early morning,

Earth's own tangy sweetness

emanating from piles of warm, dying leaves

smelling of pumpkin and sawdust,

swimming holes and overturned earth.

A small plane overhead hums its nostalgic, rumbling tune

taking me back to my grandmother's garden

of spiny artichokes and pickling cucumbers.

In the kitchen, applesauce bubbling

frothy on the stove,

swelling the house

with its tempting sweet tartness.

A fire crackling

before the freshly-cleaned hearth,

sending billowy bands of sweetly charred, smoky resin

to fill the quiet neighborhood.

In summertime on this walk

I duck into shady dells

and avoid the benches

drenched in scorching sun.

Today, the shadows are cool and biting

and I search for sun-warmed rocks

while yellow jackets hover an inch from the ground

as if searching for lost change.

Red berries perch atop bare stems

amid tufts of dirty cotton balls.

Dying leaves bed the trail

and whisper to me as my feet drag them.

Small oak leaves flicker and twirl

madly, franticly to their deaths

while larger leaves drift in slow motion, silently,

gracefully to their own last bed of scented needles.

An elderly lady bug,

spots dimmed and fading,

climbs the mountain of my shoulder

and at the top takes flight.

Poem & photo~ Copyright: Kirsten Steen

Photo: Chartres Cathedral

Poem posted last February.

Monday is 'Missing Paris Day'~Chartre Cathedral

While spring rain is presently melting my enthusiasm here in the Pacific NW, memories of France in the spring keep my fire delightfully crackling away.

These were taken in May a couple of springs ago at one of our favorites: Chartres Cathedral just a short drive or trainride out of Paris. Enjoy!

Throughout and between the maze of Mays, we all need a little rejuvenating.

Alors, moi,

...while fighting a wee sore throat this wet day of May...

I plan on cozying up to the fire with Andrea Lee's intriguing collection of short stories, "Interesting Women". Some fine writing. Happy Spring to all of you lovely and interesting women (and men of course)!

Photographs copyright: Kirsten Steen