Magical Shop in Gruyeres

A couple of years ago, when visiting Dweezeljazz and her husband, we traveled to Gruyeres, Switzerland - home of the famous cheese. Now it is also famous to me for a very special shop called Terre qui Chante. I've included the link to the shop, as the site is also lots of fun to check out (it is in French).

A couple run the boutique and are artists, who specialize in making ceramic animals, many of them musical. They have lots of ocarinas in bird and animal shapes.

The shop is just magical - something you'd imagine you'd find in a fairy tale - and the couple there are very kind and gentle. I was quite enchanted. I was given the gift of an ocarina shaped like a titmouse.

Gruyeres is a beautiful village with a medieval castle in rural surroundings. The town is flanked by the pre-Alps Mount Moleson, which you can see peeking out amoung the town's eaves here.

The little village was relatively quiet in April, with lots of scudding clouds and bright sunshine. It is squeaky clean and orderly, as most places are in Switzerland.

Here is one of the many lovely flower pots adorning someone's window ledge. I love the deep cobalt blue of the pots against the cream of the building.




We had a picnic lunch outside the castle walls that were being renovated at the time.

Then we packed up, reluctantly left Gruyeres (with a pound of cheese for my father), and traveled on to Fribourg to see the sights there.

Lac Leman.2

This is a view of Lac Leman near the far end on the Swiss side, with part of the Alps in the distance. It was taken in April at Vevey, the town where Charlie Chaplin lived in his later years. At this time of the year, the skies and the Lac can look dramatic.

Just short distance past the glitzy city of Montreux is this impressive castle, Chateau de Chillon. I've included a link to the tourist website that has much better photos. The chateau was not open when I visited, so I had to be content to take this shot from the road, which included electrical lines for the tram.

The area has been used since the Bronze Age. The first written reference to the chateau dates from 1150. It's had a lot of history.

One of the fascinating sights is to see the vineyards of the Lavaux region dotted along the road hugging the Lac. There are tiers upon tiers of them. Unfortunately, in April, all is rather gray and colorless. But interesting nonetheless. Here is a shot of one vineyard. I'd say these vines would take only hand maintenance! Apparently the original vineyards were built by monks about 800 years ago (these gluttons for punishment were no doubt rewarded with rather good libations). The Lavaux is now a World Heritage site.

I had a wonderful tour of the Lac on this day. We stopped in Vevey, walked along the Lac for some distance, then warmed up at a little inn, having hot tea and the never-disapppointing patisserie offerings.

Even though the skies were dark and menacing, and it did rain a bit, the air was reviving and we had lots of fun discovering the new and the ancient.

A Typical Weekend at Home

The jays buzz the cat in the meadow, calling raucously and continuously till the feline gets the message not to trespass the jay's territory.

The twin fawns seem to be in sync with just about every activity, including responding to unexpected noises. Hmm...what was that, anyway? (After all, everything is new to a fawn.)


And then at home, it's cage-cleaning time and that means everybody vacates, one at a time, his or her cage.

This is a shot of Pippin parked temporarily in the Wingabago travel carrier. Pippin is so small and such a seeker of small dark places to explore and make nests, that I can't leave her out unattended for long as it isn't safe.

But Sam, who was already out and about exploring, decided to check Pippin out (he does like her a lot). They had a little chat and then Sam continued his explorations.

The cockatiels also took the opportunity to explore the window sill and the outside activities. Not much happening out there except jays flying about and sun beating down - oof! It's supposed to reach upper 90s F today.

Baths were had by all and Chipper dried off on the tree.

Here he is relaxed and happy for the weekend!

Lac Leman

Lac Leman (Lake Geneva) has many different moods during the year. In spring, it's bursting with life. There are a number of areas where the general public can walk along the beaches or walkways. There are many areas off-limits to people who can afford living right off the Lac (that is: they are very rich!).

Switzerland and France share the Lac, adding to a bit of confusion for a new visitor.

It's beautiful. I've now seen it during the the very early spring, late spring, and the fall.

This wisteria was blooming in the small town of Hermance, Switzerland. It is a lovely quaint place, full of artistry and beautiful old buildings. My friend and I had taken the bus from downtown Geneva to the end of the bus line at Hermance (the Swiss bus line stops at the border near France). We had walked all morning around the city and were famished, so we found an auberge with seating outside near the Lac, had the plat du jour, and it was fantastic!

All along the beaches of the Lac you will find nesting waterfowl in the springtime. There are many swans nesting - and it's a real treat to watch them flying over the Lac. So graceful.

Here is one mother who did not allow us to approach any closer than this.


I will show a few more photos of the Lac in future posts. It is a very large lake and there are many sights to see along its curves and inlets.

Le Saleve

Le Saleve (or Mont Saleve) is the first ridge of the Alps rising southeast of Geneva, Switzerland. It looms near the city of Geneva, even though it is in France. (One of the most confusing things to get used to in traveling around Lac Leman is is how often one switches from France to Switzerland to France and back again.)

In this first photo, you can see a small portion of the old town of Geneva on the lower far left.

Le Saleve is a very popular place for weekend jaunts. There are lots of trails, and in the winter there is skiing.

In this next photo you will see down into the valley with Lac Leman spreading out from the city of Geneva. The fountain at the near extreme end of the lake (before it empties into the Rhone River) is called the Jet d'Eau and is one of the landmarks of the Lac.

One of the fun things to watch are the hang gliders floating gracefully over and around Le Saleve.

We spent quite a long time watching these gliders from the summit. Here's just a tiny snippet I took:

Yvoire

Yvoire is a very quaint and ancient town in France, right on the coast of Lac Leman (Lake Geneva - which is the largest body of fresh water in Western Europe). The village has worked hard to retain the medieval buildings remaining so that visitors can come to absorb and appreciate its history and beauty.

Yvoire came to be a strategic military fortification in 1306 during the war between the Dauphine and Savoy, but its roots are older still.


This belltower belongs to St. Pancras Church, dating from the 11th century, though the current steeple was built in 1854.

The village first became known in the 1950s as the best kept village in France and has garnered awards since then. It really is lovely and parklike, full of flowers in the spring through fall.

My visit was in mid-April before summer crowds arrived. It was quietly busy in the little shops but there was an air of peace nevertheless. That was especially evident when I walked out on the jetty and sat, listening to the waves of the lake lap against the very old stones.

If you visit Geneva, Switzerland, Yvoire is not far away. It is worth every gallon of pricey gasoline to get there.

Fawn Update

These two rascals are growing fast. I've never seen such lively spunky fawns in the 6 years I've watched these deer pass by my place. As you can see, they are so much bigger than two weeks ago.
These two are now nibbling on grasses and foliage.

Well, they're not THAT grown up. Mamma's milk is still the best!

Plum Blossoms on Stone

I just finished this new painting I'm calling "Plum Blossoms on Stone." I found these tiny blossoms on a long oval stone in my front yard this spring. They looked so soft and delicate on the hard stone with the long shadows of a late spring afternoon. They inspired me.

Once the painting is scanned, it will appear on my website.

The blossoms, of course, are long gone. Now the plum fruits are half way to ripening - a real treat for the deer who traipse through every day, and for me!

Preening as Group Therapy

With four birds in my home, a lot of preening gets done every day. I don't know how many feathers any of my parrots have individually, but an interesting factoid I found was that a bird may have as few as over 900 feathers (Ruby hummingbird) or as many as 25,000 (whistling swan in winter). Any way you look at it, that's a lot of feathers to care for.

Preening is what takes care of the feathers, besides taking a bath - which my birds do regularly. Even after bathing, preening is necessary to get the feathers properly groomed and maintained; to add oil to the feathers to keep them waterproof and insulated. In the wild, it also helps to remove parasites and debris. (You can see tiny bits of down and keratin here on Sam's head.)

And when birds are molting seasonally, it helps to remove the keratin sheathes that encase the new feathers. I've also read that it helps to strengthen relationships. That makes a lot of sense.


Whenever my birds preen, it is often "contagious" - that is, when one bird begins, usually everyone else follows suit. Group preening. It is one of the most soothing activities I've ever witnessed. Everybody quiets down to the focussed task of preening, and it can last for many minutes. I think it must be very important socially and emotionally for birds to preen in a group. Maybe it's the original group therapy. After all, birds have been around a lot longer than we have.

One of the unexpected side benefits to me is that whenever this preening business happens and I'm present, I get caught up in the quiet, almost meditative atmosphere. When everybody has finished with a nice stretch, I sigh and collect myself for the next task ahead. Ahhh....

Persimmon Heaven

I absolutely love persimmons of all kinds. They are the best fall fruits, in my opinion.

These three persimmons were ripening on my windowsill with the late fall sun slanting in through the windows - which were not very clean as you can see, but I liked how the sun created patterns on the dust and showed the flaws in the glass. I especially loved how the sun brought out such warm orange-red reflections on the white windowsill; and how the glass reflected the warm reds back.

Anyway, here's my salute to an inspired creation of nature.

Stepping Lively

This had to be shared. I opened up the living room blinds early this morning and saw the fawns chasing each other in the empty lot next to me. They were having so much fun this warm summer morning.

Older does sometimes play like this, but it's very rare. Usually, after a year or so they seem to lose their ability to play when the serious business of eating and surviving takes precedence. But every once in awhile, even the older does let loose. This happened once at the end of a hot dry summer and the first rains made everything fresh. Even I felt like dancing. The empty lot became a leaping mass of playing adult and yearling deer - chasing and kicking up their heels. It was a treat to see.

I've never mentioned the bucks. Until they are of a certain age (a year or so), they tend to stick with the female family group. Once they starting developing their first real antlers, they seem to go off on their own or join bachelor groups - until the rutting season in November and December. That's the only time they see the does.

Chipper the Ham

From the beginning, Chipper has been the most sociable and interactive member of my avian gang. If you've ever had a happy cockatiel in your life, just thinking about them - high-spirited, cheeky, loving, mischievous, personality-filled - will make you smile.

All happy male cockatiels have what I call The Strut: wings slightly lifted, head cocked, walk a bit stiff. It's hilarious and extremely endearing. You just know that the bird is showing off, with no apologies! (This video shows a bit of that particular state of being.)

Doesn't Chipper make you smile at his view of the world?

The Family in Action

Well, here is the entire family in action. Actually, the camera is more in action than the family, I'm afraid. This was taken very early in the morning and I guess I wasn't quite awake. My apologies!

It's great to see them all growing strong. Now the fawns are beginning to follow their mamma around instead of staying in hiding all day. Long may they live with plenty of food and lots of peace.

Mont Gateau (I mean, Blanc)

Two years ago, my friends took me to see Mont Blanc. Mont Blanc - though the highest mountain in Western Europe and the Alps - is one of many dramatic peaks in this range. The size of these massifs is breathtaking.

Below these towering peaks lies the town of Chamonix, where the first winter Olympics took place in 1924. I've included a shot of the ski lift that shows part of the town far below.


In the range of peaks facing Mont Blanc, where skiers are dropped off by ski lift, there was a very welcome restaurant, which became forever memorable to the three of us. The reason: We ordered hot coffee - and some cake. The latter was chocolate with hazelnut, and I'm showing you the piece we ate here because although it is long gone, it will never be forgotten. I have never tasted cake that was so exquisitely, rapturously delicious!

We were amazed and humbled by the grandeur of the mountains, but I'm embarrassed to say that the cake was so present in our minds days and weeks later that forever after, we have always referred to Mont Blanc as "Mont Gateau."

It was a long and beautiful day of reveling in nature, and our last views of the day included this lovely sunset as we drove home - with memories of snow and gateau swirling in our heads....

The Cave Painters

I just finished reading a fascinating book entitled The Cave Painters by Gregory Curtis.

It's utterly astounding to think that ancient paleolithic humans created such art of exquisite beauty and movement. I find it amazing that much of this art seems so fresh and alive - even modern.

It's also interesting that these artists - as long as 30,000 years ago - used principles of perspective that more modern humans didn't rediscover until the Middle Ages. Apparently this period of cave painting lasted for about 20,000 years.

These caves are dotted throughout France and Spain. Most of the more famous ones, such as the caves of Lascaux, are closed to the public in order to preserve the paintings for as long as possible.

Since reading this book about the history of the French caves, I've seen a larger photo book by Norbert Aujoulat that highlights Lascaux and its art - a beautiful book.

After the second World War, when Picasso saw some of these ancient cave paintings, he was awed and humbled. He said: "We have learned nothing in twelve thousand years."

You know, I think he's right.

The Hills Are Alive...

...with life of all kinds.

In the shady side of the hills here I found many Wood Roses - so simple and lovely.

This is also the time of blackberry blossoms. The deer love the fresh tender leaves and the blossoms, but there are so many blackberry shrubs here - mounds of them - that there is no danger of blackberry shortages.
In August, my fingers, lips, and tongue turn blue from the blackberry juice stains as I wend my way from one laden branch to another. But I still have to wait a bit longer for the bounty to begin.

There are lots of California quail here, as there are California poppies. Both seem to have drifted here from California over the years and are now Oregon versions. This fellow seemed to have become momentarily separated from his flock one morning.


One of the most interesting finds along the trails I walk was coming across a wild beehive in the stump of a dead tree. The interesting thing is that it was only a few feet away from a heavily-traversed section of the walkway, not far from the graveled parking lot where the trails begin. And the hive is below eye level and would be easily reachable (is someone dared to steal the honey). Since there are bears in this area, I wonder if this was a self-protective gambit: make honey in a place that bears would be shy to come to because of the larger density of humans?

I wonder. I found the hive last spring. This spring it appears to be vacant, but the honeycomb still remains. I hope these bees survived and found a less accessbile spot.

Egg Art

Although I was prolific in artistic endeavors during in my grammar and high school years, not much of it survives. Being the daughter of a Marine meant that we moved every 2-3 years. When my father retired, a box containing all my most cherished treasures and art that I especially liked was lost on our last military-paid move.

Except for my egg art. These I made each Christmas to give to family and friends. I'd blow out the egg through a needle hole. That hole would be used to secure embroidery thread for hanging the egg on a Christmas tree.

This egg is one my mother gave back to me some years ago. It depicts elements of my life in a semi-rural area where we lived after my father's retirement. In the foreground is Ralph, our Siamese cat. And Mollie, my Alpine goat. In the far distance, the black blob under the willow tree is Casey our lab. I still don't know how I managed to get my fingers inside the egg to paste in the foreground elements. I was a glutton for punishment!

A Bird's Eye View

It has finally turned hot enough here to believe that summer will in fact happen, after all.

In case some of you are experiencing discomfort from the heat, I thought I'd share a few shots of colder days in March. I was visiting my friends in France. One day we took the telepherique from Crozet up the Jura Mountains to the ski area (this link has some webcams that might be of interest). At the time the snow was pretty slushy (though several snowstorms swept through in the weeks following). We were able to see the entire valley floor. This first shot was taken in a ski lift cab. In the far distance are the Alps with Mont Blanc being the highest point. To the left of the photo is a silverish body of water, which is Lake Geneva (Lac Leman).

The air was bracing, and quite strong up at the highest points. Despite the harsh climate, there were tiny wild crocuses and snowdrops pushing up through last year's dead turf. It was marvelous.

After walking for some time, we saw encroaching clouds that hinted at a storm. It was getting late in the afternoon and the sun was fading, so we sped to the telepherique station so as not to miss our ride. Otherwise it would have been an awfully long steep hike down.

That was a very special outing and all of us felt revived in body and sprit, ready for the next adventure.

The Entire Family

When I first began writing about the new fawn, I was pretty sure the mamma deer had had twins, and in fact I had seen them from a distance. Now I can say with certainty that there are indeed twins. I saw them last night, with the last rays of the sun hitting them in the empty lot next to my house. The whole extended deer clan was nearby, and the fawns had just had a milky repast before hunkering down in the grass again.

And tonight, before dusk, here is the entire family together. I'm so pleased that this pair are healthy and whole. Last year the doe had such terrible troubles with her own health and that of her fawns that it's great to see how content she is with this little family. If does can express happiness, I'd say she does a pretty good job of it.

Fantasy Art in Iron

While visiting my friends in France, we took a walk from one village to a large town via country back roads. What was supposed to have been a 3- or 4-mile round trip turned into a much loooonnngggeerrrrr walk. Round trip, it was nearly 8 miles! But, wow! What a lovely walk. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.

On the way, in the middle of plowed fields, we took a road that led into the outskirts of the city called Divonne Les Bains. One of the houses on the road had a marvelous wrought-iron gate that contained sculptures of birds, dragonflies, nests – even the round white lights were made to look like the centers of flowers.

These are a few close-ups you may enjoy. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like stumbling upon fairy magic in the middle of what was becoming a much harder walk than anticipated. Seeing the gate bucked us up sufficiently to get us to our destination – and lunch!

The last shot shows the gate in context, though it doesn't show the lights, which would have been fun for you to see.

Woodpeckers!

This weekend I ran across what looked like a male pileated woodpecker chopping out a nest for himself and his lady woodpecker. I never did see a Mrs. Woodpecker. In this case, is it a "Build it and She will come" scenario? Anyway, Mr. was very industrious and my presence did not seem to bother him in the slightest. I only hope that the owner of the tree won't mind, as it is obviously a tree someone was trying to save by covering up the dead part with that black tree wound goop. The tree was in the front yard, only a a dozen feet from a busy street.

I also saw this sapsucker on my way back home. I thought it might be a young bird, as it seemed rather clumsy, trying to bore holes in hard madrone wood.

And lastly, I saw these bright - almost flourescent - yellow birds winging joyfully here and there in a little valley where I was walking. I think they are orioles. They surely were having fun.

Fawn is Out and About

Well, here is the little fawn, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Newborn fawns are so curious and glad to be alive when they first arrive. Everything is an ADVENTURE and fun....though I think this particular fawn may be giving its mom some early gray hairs!

The mother came to my front yard, and in this picture, you see the fawn rushing to her from the empty lot next door where he/she had been hiding.

And so life continues its onward march with new beginnings everywhere...

French Dog Revisited

I had the opportunity to visit my dear friends in the Pays de Gex area of France, where they have been living for some time. It is beautiful countryside, dotted with small villages with ancient histories. It is very close to the Swiss border near Geneva.

Walking around the countryside every day while I was there created a perpetual grin on my face. I couldn’t get enough of it! Even when it rained - which happened most days I visited, as it was early March - I was still grinning. (Of course, eating incredible French food also accentuated the permanent grin!)

One of the walks we took regularly was to Vesancy. Vesancy is noted (at least by me) for its quaint and quiet beauty with a backdrop of the stunning Jura Mountains; its one restaurant with rustic hearty lunch fare, much welcomed by hungry walkers and workers from the nearby valley; and its beautiful Chapelle de Riantmont that sits on the highest point overlooking the village and surrounding countryside – as far as Lake Geneva (Lac Leman) on very clear days. (More on this in a later post.)

A year previously in the Spring, I came across a friendly old Lab that was sleeping on his master’s porch. He looked so wonderfully content, soaking up the sun, that I painted him and called it “Spring Sun on Winter Bones” (above).

This year, I was very happy to see that the old guy was still around and lazing about.

But just so you are assured that he does more than nap, here’s another shot to prove that he can indeed move – quite well!

Fawn Debut

It happened, I think, a couple days ago: Old Mamma's daughter had her fawn(s). I've only seen one so far, but the other may be hidden somewhere else, as is the habit of good deer mothers. You may have a hard time seeing the fawn, but the doe is cleaning the fawn while the fawn nurses. This was taken from my kitchen window.

Actually, I had flushed this little guy/girl unknowingly from my little front yard when I went out to set up my solar cooker (the sun's finally shining!). The mother had hidden it deep in the rosemary bush outside my livingroom window. The mother had been around earlier in the morning, hoping for a handout. I'm honored!

More photos later, as they hang around with their mother and grow up.

Drastic Means to Creativity!

I recently celebrated 11 years of being cancer-free. Last year my oncologist told me he didn’t need to see me again, so I’ve passed some pretty wonderful mileposts. When I was diagnosed, it was a very scary time, and pulled me up so short I nearly fell flat on my face – well, I did fall completely when I had a mastectomy and chemotherapy. Since I was sensitive to medications, it felt like trying to stay astride a very upset bucking bronco. Once the ride ended, I felt as if I'd been thrown off and trampled. It took many years to fully recuperate – even then, it seems the Grave’s Disease I had later may have been triggered by what I went through.

But, you know, there’s nothing like facing the possibility of your own death to force a new look at life. It may sound silly – though if you’ve gone through the same or similar experience, you may understand – but one of the first of many big shocks to shake my old world view was losing my long braid that I’d worn most of my life. It was as if snipping off that thick lock of hair ended life as I knew it.

All the energy I had previously was given to the life I’d chosen in a monastery, with its increasing responsibilities. Now that energy was focused on two things only: 1. Get through this and live, and 2. Get myself in order so that I live better now (or die trying to).

There was one very important discovery (among many!) that I made during this time of reflection: I had totally neglected my creative side, the side that enabled me to see fantastic possibilities, that allowed me a way to express myself and my feelings about life. I’d stopped playing music, stopped painting and drawing, stopped gardening – all the very things that fed me and permitted me to be myself. As awful as this period was, it became one of the best times of my life because I became alive to myself. It was really ironic, since it seemed like my body was dying in front of my eyes.

Once I had healed and gotten back to my old life, it was never the same for me. I fought very hard to retain that urgency to see things in truth and with new eyes, but the atmosphere to which I returned was unhealthy, unsupportive where it should have been supportive, and increasingly antagonistic, despite my efforts to live in a new way. It was as if a much-worn coat no longer fit and was, in fact, becoming a straitjacket.

Only when I left this old life could I begin to express my creative side again. Although the old urgency I felt about living differently is more muted than those desperate days of struggling to physically survive, the lesson I gained about being true to myself has not faded. Thank goodness I can paint again – but no more drastic means, please!

Beauty Everywhere

There are days when it’s hard to see beauty, especially when a media account talks of yet ano