Sunrise. These are the last of the photos from the Charlevoix.
This is an old house built in the Norman style - the curved edges of the roof are very typical - high above the river; it belongs to a friend of our friend.
Monkshood in the garden.
The view from the lawn of the house, over the little chapel you saw in the previous post.
And an imagined afternoon: rocking chairs on a Charlevoix porch, looking over Le Fleuve.
While we're sitting here, you might like to listen to a few selections from my friend Carole Therrien's CD, Vues du fleuve. Carole owns and runs a major Canadian jazz label, Effendi Records, with her partner, the well-known Montréal bassist Alain Bédard. She's a terrific jazz singer, but I know her best as a classical singing companion -- she's the first soprano soloist in our choir at Christ Church Cathedral, Montreal, and has a voice that makes time stand still. There are clips from all the cuts on her CD here, and three full selections here. Talking to Carole and listening to this music -- like visiting the Charlevoix -- have helped show me what "The River" really means to the Quebeçois. On her website she quotes Denys Lelièvre:
Devant le fleuve, l'homme est à la fois nu et comblé.
Il a la certitude d'être en lien avec quelque chose de plus vaste que lui:
<<Je ne suis plus seul maintenant.>>
(loosely translated: "Before the river, man is both naked and fufilled. He has the certainty of being in a place with something bigger than he is: 'I am not alone anymore.'")