I don't think any of us quite expected either the outpouring of #MeToo posts, the sadness and anger engendered by hearing stories from other people we care about, or the after-effect of being plunged back into memories we've suppressed for a long time. But, as I said, women are resilient, and most of us have always found ways to take care of ourselves. I've noticed a number of people saying they were crocheting or knitting or doing some similar project. I've been working on my Brora shawl in the evenings -- it's complicated and I'm not an experienced lace knitter, so I have to pay close attention -- which is just the right thing. During the days, I revisited and finished this small pastel of poplars in Cap-a-l'Aigle, the same town I painted a few weeks ago; it's in the Charlevoix region of Quebec, on the edge of the estuary where the St. Lawrence River really begins to look like the sea.
Working on this pastel, I remembered the morning when I walked on this street, which is pretty much the only street in the village. I was up earlier than my husband or the two friends we were traveling with. Wanting to be near the water, I set out from the small bed-and-breakfast where we were staying and walked down to the village pier, past hedge roses in bloom. This row of poplars caught my eye; they're a testament to the French heritage of Quebec, and although they struggle in our harsher climate, you often see planted rows like this along the river and in towns. It's no wonder French painters have always liked them!
Here's another take on poplars: a watercolor I painted a few years ago. This is not far from the Vermont border, in southern Quebec at the top end of Lake Champlain. But cross the border into the U.S., and you almost never see these trees unless you're at looking at the homestead of a transplanted QuebeƧois.
Back at the time, I wrote that I "liked to imagine Samuel Chaplain with his pockets full of seeds, planting the trees that reminded him of his native France." The Charlevoix is full of historic sites where Champlain explored and the first French colonists did settle, so it's certainly possible that some of these trees are descendants of ones they planted. We can always be romantic!
These are beautiful, Beth.
Posted by: Rachel Barenblat | October 19, 2017 at 03:04 PM
They are indeed lovely trees.
Posted by: Hattie | October 25, 2017 at 11:16 AM