Dragged by the galoping cloudsThe sun escaped from the dark woods
Fell in the water
And drowned.
Soulevé par les nuages fuyants
Le soleil s'arrache aux bois noirs
Tombe à l'eau
Et se noie.

Walking in Avignon, in my suburb at least, you often come across stenciled messages written on the pavement. Several appeared recently. Some are cryptic or intriguing, others quite poetic:
Some other messages have been around since last summer, such as these in rue Violette, not far from the Avignon Art School. You rarely see them as a group like here, they usually come in isolation.Translations :
The authors are students of the Avignon Art School. How do I know? I sneaked inside the school yesterday, out of curiosity, and found the stencils in one of the corridors, among a stack of painted canvasses. Is that meant to be conceptual art? Now since the message above adresses the reader directly (You think what? You say nothing), please give us your opinion. Would you enjoy finding messages such as these under your steps or do you see them as dirty graffiti?
Les auteurs sont des étudiants de l'Ecole d'Art d'Avignon. Comment je le sais ? Je suis allée y faire un tour hier, par curiosité, et en me balladant dans les couloirs je suis tombée sur les pochoirs, au milieu de toiles peintes. Est-ce de l'art conceptuel ? Puisque le message ci-dessus met directement à contribution le lecteur (Tu penses quoi ? Tu dis rien), donnez donc votre avis : Ca vous plait ou ça vous agace ?
Sometimes poetry grows on the most unexpected terrain. Rue du Bon Martinet is a dark lane that feeds into the tourist-famous Rue des Teinturiers, which you see here in the background. So narrow that a car will hardly fit (access limited to residents only), it is quiet, deserted and prone to graffiti. Walking past a couple of days ago I discovered on a windowsill an empty pot with a message attached. The message was a poem (click on the photo to enlarge). Here's a very rough translation which I hope will convey some of the spirit of the original.
In the comments Peter suggested I offer the owners a replacement ivy in appreciation of the poem - I'd thought of it. In the meantime here's a virtual replacement (photo taken in Berrima, NSW Australia)
Dans les commentaires Peter a suggéré que j'offre aux propriétaires un nouveau lierre pour les féliciter du poème. J'y avais pensé en effet. Voici déja une compensation virtuelle, un portillon croulant sous le lierre (photo prise à Berrima, NSW, Australie)
Yesterday I had two young men at my window. For a second I saw myself as a Juliet with two Romeos under her balcony but let's face it, they were only interested in the plane trees they had come to lop. However the good news is that the branches will no longer screech and bang against my roof and gutter when the mistral blows.
They used nothing but their ropes and physical strength to hoist themselves up the trees, and see how high they are! I offered this young guy to send him some photos by email. All smile, he said he would be delighted, except he had no email address. That came as a bit of a shocker to me - I thought everyone in the young generation had one, even if only used very occasionally...
Twenty-five kilometers south of Avignon, the Alpilles is a small mountain range that offers miles of scenic walking tracks among pine trees and rosemary. I was there yesterday at sunset. This man belonged to a party of four, with two children who were running ahead. Although they were on a distant hill we could hear their voices amazingly well, as if they were very near.
Yesterday on Saturday Avignonites had two major options: join the mass shopping crowds attracted by the Winter Sales ("Soldes") which started this Wednesday (here a shop window in Rue Saint Agricol), or take advantage of the wonderful weather and head outdoors.
Considering my lack of interest in credit card busting and my need for fresh air (I'd been trapped indoors by poor weather since my last post), I had no hesitation in choosing the outdoor option. On Place des Chataignes I was surprised to find this restaurant, la Goulette, still bearing its full Christmas decorations. Charming little paved square but no sun here in the shade of St Pierre church, let's move on.
Continued with a walk along the Rhone on the right bank. The light was beautiful.
Living in Avignon is like walking through history on a daily basis. It's also being blessed by beauty at every other street corner. Since Avignon was home to the Popes in the 14th-15th centuries, religious art is everywhere. The number of churches per square kilometre must be one of the highest in the world. This Virgin Mary carrying infant Jesus is the centerpiece of St Peter's church's façade, a masterpiece of flamboyant gothic architecture. I visited her this afternoon on a short walk after lunch. The mother's soft features and gentle expression, the delicate folds of her dress, the cute naked body of her baby all contribute to making her for me one of Avignon's most touching pieces of architecture.
But religious statues aren't reserved to churches and chapels alone. Many of the old city's façades display a small niche with a saint as a blessing on the house. They come in many styles, some very simple and naive, some more ornate, always charming. This one in rue du Four is one of my favourites because of its elegant frame of striped shadows and grey shutters.