We’ve had a few days of cloudy, wet weather, so the horses next door are covered and muddy.
I spent most of the day putting together my presentation on Troubadour poetry and music for French 385: Travels in Provence. It rained most of the day, and during a break in the weather I went out and photographed the storm passing over the Sandias. On my way out to the river, I noticed there were still a few drops of rain the wind had not blown off a rose bush — it reminded me of Led Zeppelin’s “Thank You”, which has a verse that begins “Little drops of rain…” I had been reading medieval poetry all day and started thinking that “Thank You” could be modern Troubadour poetry.
Troubadours originally wrote their poetry in Occitan, the language of Provence, France, also called Provançal. I don’t understand Occitan, so I’ve been reading the poetry translated into English by William and Frances Paden in their book Troubadour Poems from the South of France. Women Troubadours where called trobairitz, and the most famous trobairitz is La Comtessa de Dia. After reading many troubadour poems, La Comtessa de Dia is one of my favorites. Here is one of her poems named Estat ai en greu cossirier / I have been in heavy grief circa 1169:
I have been in heavy grief
for a knight who once was mine,
And I want it to be forever known
That I loved him too much,
I see now that I’m betrayed
For not giving him my love
Bemused, I lie in bed awake;
Bemused, I dress and pass the day.
If only I could hold him
Naked in my arms one night!
He would feel ecstatic
Were I to be his pillow.
Since I desire him more
Than Floris did Blanchefleur,
I give him my heart and my love,
My wit, my eyes, for as long as I live.
Splendid lover, charming and good,
When shall I hold you in my power?
If only I could lie with you one night
And give you a loving kiss!
Know that I’d like
To hold you as my husband,
As long as you’d promise
To do what I desired.
Here are the lyrics to Robert Plan’s Thank You, 1969:
If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you.
When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.
Kind woman, I give you my all, Kind woman, nothing more.
Little drops of rain whisper of the pain, tears of loves lost in the days gone by.
My love is strong, with you there is no wrong,
together we shall go until we die. My, my, my.
An inspiration is what you are to me, inspiration, look… see.
And so today, my world it smiles, your hand in mine, we walk the miles,
Thanks to you it will be done, for you to me are the only one.
Happiness, no more be sad, happiness….I’m glad.
If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you.
When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.
I went out to get the moonrise this afternoon. The clouds covered the moon when it first came over the mountain, but then as it rose behind the clouds it afforded nice photo ops. The geese and cranes are still hanging around, and the crows were thick at times, which reminded me of the movie “The Birds.”
Firefox was displaying typical cat-like behavior tonight when we dropped Tristan off on our way home this afternoon. In the first and last photos she was rolling around on the floor, making it difficult to get a clear photo, but we finally managed to get her to hold still for a few seconds. In the middle photo, she was at the top of the stairs challenging another cat. The incandescent light in the stairwell made her look orange, whereas she is yellow in the photos with the bright, fluorescent light streaming in from the kitchen .
Apparently Stretch is becoming a comics connoisseur from Laurie reading Tintin while we waterboard him (subcutaneous fluids for renal failure) every night, because when I went back out to the kitchen last night after he thought we had gone to bed, I found him reading the funnies that Laurie had left on her book holder. He was so engrossed that I was able to sneak a photo before he noticed me and slinked off, looking a little embarrassed.
When the Sandias turned pink at sunset, I decided to try a panorama through the bare cottonwoods. While I was photographing the mountains, a great blue heron landed on a cottonwood between the irrigation and clearwater ditches, affording me the opportunity to get a pretty clear photo of it. When I was going back inside, Puck had all his attention fixed on something. I couldn’t see what it was, but he was so concentrated that I snapped the photo of him. The shutter clicking interrupted his concentration, he glanced at me, then started looking around as if he was trying to find the object of his attention, scolded me with a few choice meows when he seemed not to see it again (I assume he was saying “nice going stupid ¡#%&^@$*! photographer”), then he jumped down off the railing and came inside with me. When I went out a little later, I was able to get a detailed shot of the moon in the clear, cold, winter sky.
Today I ended up with a mix of flowers, a sparrow, and a couple of experimental shots with pearls. The dried iceberg looked like a painting in the late afternoon light, and the flowers on the table were vibrant in the afternoon sun shining through the bay windows. While I was out walking around the yard before sundown, a sparrow kept flying around behind me and landing in a nearby tree. At one point I was standing in the shadow of the black bamboo, and the sparrow flew out of the tree, made a U-turn, and flew right back towards me, and almost flew into me, swerving around me at the last moment. I was dressed in black, standing in the shadow of the black bamboo, so I think it actually didn’t see me until it almost flew into me. After that, it sat in the tree across from where I was standing and gave me mad dogs.
We went in to see how Tristan organized her study space when we dropped her off after school late this afternoon, and I noticed the lights in their stairwell made a very nice design. Sophia always does the same pose whenever she sees a camera — a kind of pensive, sultry look — and René, the Eclectus parrot former known as Joey, is looking really good these days. Tristan said she noticed that René is not the brightest bird on the block, but then she is comparing him to her African Greys. Most parrots have intellects comparable to 2 to 3 year old children; whereas African Greys have intellects comparable to 5 year old children. So while most parrots are very interactive, inquisitive, and can often mimic people very well, African Greys can actually reason with you.