Welcome to the Via Lucis Blog for Romanesque Photography

Via Lucis Photography is about the art and architecture of Romanesque and Gothic churches in Europe. This blog highlights those photographs but also features the written word to characterize and give context to the images.

Photographers Dennis Aubrey and PJ McKey have photographed approximately 850 of these churches and captured over 100,000 images. We have created a library of more than 5,000 high resolution images for licensing on the VIA LUCIS website.

In addition, Via Lucis images are available for academic or research purposes through ARTstor.

We often feature single churches in our posts – if you are interested, please select this link to a list of those sites.

Please note that all images and text on this Via Lucis blog are copyrighted by the photographers and authors. Thank you for respecting this notice.

Doors to the Soul (Dennis Aubrey)

I’ve always been fascinated by the site of the exterior light coming into the church from the old doors and am always on the prowl for these shots. The first one that I shot was at Lavaudieu. The church in this little Auvergnat town was the third we had shot in the day and after two hours, I was exhausted and finished. While PJ continued to shoot in the apse area, I packed up my equipment and sat down to rest. At some point my gaze turned to the door and this is what I saw. Five minutes later, the equipment was set up and I took this single shot, which to this day is one with which I am very pleased.

Eglise Abbatiale Lavaudieu, Lavaudieu (Haute-Loire) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

This door at the Abbey church of Silvacane in the Provence is stunning for several reasons. The deep red color contrasts with the muted interior, and the doors are relatively small compared to the west wall in which they are placed. In this particular shot we get both the light from the exterior door and the windows above, which provides enough illumination to really sense the scale of the entire church itself. The arch of the side aisle, of course, is a wonderful addition to the scene.

L’Abbaye de Silvacane, La Roque d’Anthéron (Bouches-du-Rhône) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

As usual, PJ sees different things than I do in these churches, and is drawn inevitably into seeing the small, telling details that make them special. Here are two door shots from her, one in the Pyrénées and the other in the Auvergne. The door of the Chapelle de la Trinité is beautifully adorned with the metalwork on the exterior, and one can hardly see the wood door beneath.

Chapelle de la Trinité, Prunet- et- Belpuig (Pyrénées-Orientales) Photo by PJ McKey

At the pilgrimage church of Orcival, on the other hand, the wood of the door is beautifully textured and weathered. One can imagine the hundreds of thousands of pilgrims over the years who have passed through this door to see Notre Dame des Fers inside.

Notre Dame d’Orcival, Orcival (Puy-de-Dôme) Photo by PJ McKey

The tiny Eglise de Mailhat in the town of Mailhat-Lamontgie in the Puy-de-Dôme has some wonderful touches, including the inimitable “Potty Boy”. Here are two shots of the door of the church, including PJ’s wonderful closeup of the ancient hardware on the outer face of the door.

Eglise de Mailhat, Mailhat (Puy-de-Dôme) Photo by PJ McKey

Eglise de Mailhat, Mailhat (Puy-de-Dôme) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

Finally, there is this door in the great Cathedral of Saint Stephen in Cahors. There is so much to see in this church including the superb north tympanum, but my favorite shot of the church is this one. It is unique in a way because the door leads not to the exterior of the church, which would feature natural light, but the sacristy, which was instead illuminated artificially. It gives a wonderful, mysterious feeling to the shot, especially with the superb geometric patterns of the floor and walls.

Cathédrale Saint Etienne, Cahors (Lot) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

Miserere Mei and the young Genius (Dennis Aubrey)

Note: I recommend listening to the music below while reading this post.

This is a story of perhaps the first pirated copy of music in documented history. Gregorio Allegri (1582 – 1652) composed his Miserere Mei, based on Psalm 51, for the Good Friday service at the Vatican in 1638. The music was so sublime that Pope Urban VIII prohibited its publication under the penalty of excommunication. It was to be performed twice a year only – on the Tenebrae services on the Wednesday and Good Friday before Easter – and only in the Sistine Chapel.

For 132 years, the work was performed under those restrictions, but on April 11, 1770, a 14-year old boy changed this. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and his father Leopold arrived in Rome just in time for the Easter services. The story is that they attended the Wednesday performance of Miserere Mei in the Sistine. The boy was so overcome with the beauty of the choral piece that he transcribed the music from memory that very evening. The two Mozarts returned for the Good Friday performance where Wolfgang checked his transcription. He had made only two minor errors. Leopold wrote to his wife Maria Ann on Saturday and told her about the marvelous feat.

I have heard two versions of how the matter was resolved. In the first, shortly after the performances, Wolfgang gave a private concert for Clement XIV and performed the Miserere Mei on the piano. Far from being upset, the Pope was impressed by the musical precocity and praised Mozart.

The second version says that during his travels soon after the visit to Rome, Mozart met the British historian Dr. Charles Burney, who obtained the piece from him. Burney took the manuscript to London and published it in 1771. When word reached the Pope of the publication, he summoned Mozart to Rome. But as in the first version, instead of excommunicating the boy, Clement XIV showered him with praise.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) Image in the Public Domain

Many historians insist that the entire story is a fabrication, that it was a publicity stunt by Leopold or that Mozart knew the music ahead of time. But personally, I would like to think that such an exquisite composition deserves an equally exquisite unveiling to the world. And it is such a good story, isn’t it?

Lux Aeterna (Dennis Aubrey)

The great invisible! He dwells
Conceal’d in dazzling light.

Isaac Watts, The Divine Perfections

Note: my brother John Paul, who is a professional musician, suggested this piece of music (Lux Aeterna by Edward Elgar) for the post. I tried it out and it makes wonderful accompaniment. Play this and then read!

A great joy in photographing our Romanesque churches is to observe the nature of the light. This is truly the photographer’s delight. Sometimes the light is as simple as a shaft penetrating from a single window above the chancel. Other times, it is a glorious and radiant display of color and texture that transfixes the viewer.

Nave from narthex, Basilique Saint Julien, Brioude (Haute-Loire) Photo by PJ McKey

In the great Romanesque churches, it is different than the jeweled display of the Gothic; it is a simpler and more direct light. It is a light that meant something to the monks and nuns, which was the burning and shining light of God himself.

Nave arcades, Basilique Saint Julien, Brioude (Haute-Loire) Photo by PJ McKey

In Brioude, PJ and I came into the church and illumination was gloriously visible in the soaring nave. We were greedy to start; we entered and began shooting immediately, before we got to our regular shooting positions. Normally I go in, set up the tripod and shoot the center aisle to the apse shot, dead-on, the establishing shot, so to speak. But the light was so astonishing through the windows, rich primary colors splashing down over painted columns, that we departed from our norm.

Vaults and clerestory windows, Basilique Saint Julien, Brioude (Haute-Loire) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

We were like greedy children, grabbing each shot before we lost the light. And the miracle of it was that the light was perfect for three hours and we shot continuously, hungrily.

The light changed hourly; we would shoot, move and shoot more, than look up and want to reshoot what we’d shot an hour earlier. We shot from the floor, climbed up to the Saint Michael’s chapel above the narthex and shot down into the church, but in all that time neither of us made it to the chancel or the apse, despite the fact that the church was almost empty. We finished our three hours, three concentrated hours of shooting without a break, and it was like we had run a marathon. Such a pleasant, happy exhaustion.

Saint Michael’s chapel and narthex, Basilique Saint Julien, Brioude (Haute-Loire) Photo by PJ McKey

When we finished, PJ came up to me, eyes glazed and said, “Slap me, I can’t stop.” I laughed, but understood exactly how she felt; it was like being drugged. We must have shot 300 exposures each that day in Saint Julien and could have shot another 500 if we had time.

South side aisle, Basilique Saint Julien, Brioude (Haute-Loire) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

When we were just about finished, I looked down from the vaulted ceilings and saw another beautiful site. The church floor is a beautifully cobbled with inlaid stones. What could possibly be better?

Cobbled floor, Basilique Saint Julien, Brioude (Haute-Loire) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

I am pleased to report that we went back to Brioude and completed our photography. We actually shot the apse and the ambulatory, as well as the capitals and the exterior. But we’ll never forget the extraordinary energy we felt the first time we saw Saint Julien de Brioude in all her glory. Such moments make us realize that we are first and foremost photographers and everything takes a back seat to the light.

Location: Click this link to see the location on our custom Google Map.

If you are interested in seeing more of these images, please see the Via Lucis website.

My Medieval Childhood in Chauvigny (Dennis Aubrey)

When I was growing up in the sixties, my father, an American soldier, was stationed in France for the second time. The first was in the 50′s and we lived in the area near Orleans. I have some early memories of the area and my life there, and in the last decade have renewed acquaintance with both the people we knew and the places we lived. In the 60′s, however, we lived for awhile in the Poitivin town of Chauvigny. This was perhaps the height of my imaginative life – picture a thirteen-year old boy with the complete freedom to explore this French town without adult supervision. That will give you an idea of our life there.

The town of Chauvigny sits astride the Vienne and has a great hill at its center, surmounted by no less than five feudal chateaux and a wonderful church, the Collégiale Saint Pierre. While the church had its attractions, principally the grotesque capitals of the chancel, the Chateau d’Harcourt was our first love. My brother David and I walked the mile from our house to the hill and climbed up into the ruins innumerable times, exploring every inch, and naming the different sections – Roland, Oliver, Turpin, Jeanne d’Arc, Charlemagne, and other heroes from our medieval mythology.

Our explorations were not always safe – David and I once climbed the crumbling walls shown in the foreground of this shot and across the high wall at the back until we arrived at the round turret at the far side. It was a blustery windy day and we were very anxious. As we traversed the last wall to the tower, we considered turning around, but it seemed more dangerous to reverse our positions on the crumbly windswept wall than it did to continue. Continue we did until we finally arrived at our destination with a sense of relief and accomplishment. We looked out at the town below as if we were those heroes of old.

Chateau d’Harcourt, Chauvigny (Vienne) Photo by Cosmos (CHAUVIGNY DANS LA VIENNE)

Years later I returned with our parents and the Gayets, long-time friends from neighboring Vivonne. I pointed out where we had ventured and everyone was aghast. So was I, when I realized how foolish we had been to scale the crumbling masonry.

Far less dangerous, and today far more interesting, is the collegiate church of Saint Pierre. On that day when we returned with my parents and friends, the townspeople were upset because someone had broken into the tronc box and stolen the offerings. The church looked exactly as I remembered it, whitewashed stone with traces of red paint, green mold and cobwebs, musty smelling and with dirt on the floor. Imagine my surprise when I returned fifteen years later with PJ. The church had been beautifully restored and painted, cleaned and was in perfect condition.

The tall, narrow nave terminates at a crossing with a small hemicycle apse lying beyond. There are no transepts. In this shot of the nave we can see the imperfect restoration of the ogive barrel vault atop the rounded chancel arch. Notice how there are no clerestory windows because the arcades rise all the way to the vault.

Nave, Collégiale Saint-Pierre, Chauvigny (Vienne) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

Saint Pierre is a hall church, typical of the Poitier region. That means that the side aisles are almost as high as the nave. These narrow, open side aisles are covered with groin vaults that permitted large windows to light the church. I particularly admire the transverse supporting walls with the windows high up.

Side aisle, Collégiale Saint-Pierre, Chauvigny (Vienne) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

The apse and altar are filled with wonderful touches. Instead of the oven vault directly over the hemicycle, there is an arcaded half drum intervening. The arcade is composed of nine arches centered over the seven arches of the hemicycle. This is another of those unique features in this little church, adding height to the altar area.

Hemicycle arcades and oven vault, Collégiale Saint-Pierre, Chauvigny (Vienne) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

The glory of Saint Pierre are the chancel capitals that adorn the columns of the hemicycle and the drum arcade. We have posted earlier on these, so follow that link to see more details. But the following shot shows them in situ and gives an indication of how evocative they are in this church.

Chancel capitals, Collégiale Saint-Pierre, Chauvigny (Vienne) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

But one particular capital needs to be shown here, one of the few signed by a medieval artist. The sculptor signed Gofridus me fecit on the Visit of the Magi capital, center on the altar, visible to all. PJ and I both love this and have a whole story in our mind of who Gofridus was and how he obtained the freedom to create this unique ensemble of story-telling capitals.

Gofridus me fecit, Collégiale Saint Pierre, Chauvigny (Vienne) Photo by PJ McKey

Some of my fondest memories of are of that hill in Chauvigny. I felt part of those histories that I read so avidly, of the “Song of Roland,” but it went further than that. There is evidence of a Mesolithic settlement from about 12,000 BCE and the Celts settled here and built an oppidum. The Roman road passed through the adjacent village of Saint Pierre-des-Églises and a settlement grew up here. Clovis and his Franks burned the city and its temples and made it Christian, Charlemagne raised its lords to his service, and as vassals to the Count of Poitiers, the Barons of Chauvigny ruled the area from their stronghold. All of this was palpable and somehow I felt part of that. Maybe for the first time in my young, well-traveled life I felt part of history.

Location: 46.570501° 0.648799°

Oysters and an Abbey ruin in Bretagne (Dennis Aubrey)

“Whence is it, my friend, that the imagination even of a good-natured man is more enraptured with these rude appearances of Nature, these prospects of the ruinous kind, than with the most smiling views of plenty and prosperity?” A Dialogue on Stowe, William Gilpin (1746)

PJ and I liked the French province of Bretagne quite a lot – it reminds us in many ways of our home in Cape Cod for one thing. We would stop for lunch in any small seaside town and order raw oysters and a bottle of Muscadet-sur-Lie wine from the area near Nantes, the former capital of the province. The oysters were invariably served with a mignonette – good red wine vinegar with chopped shallots – and rye bread with salted butter from the region. What a delight.

Huitres avec mignonette, Photo par PJ McKey

We stayed in a wonderful gite called the Manoir de Kerledan in the small town of Carhaix-Plouguer, halfway between Guingamp and Quimper. The gite is owned by the charming and gracious hosts, Penny and Peter Dinwiddie. It is believed that the manor house was built for a Breton nobleman around about 1490. The site was abandoned for many years but has been restored and the grounds are magnificent. Our room could not have been more comfortable and charming, the food wonderful, and if we had to pick out strangers as companions, we never could have done better than with the Irish, English, and Belgian couples who shared the Manoir with us. This is an inside joke, but after hearing the Belgian restauranteur and his tale of “Silent Night”, I will never be able to listen to that Christmas song with a straight face again.

About 65 kilometers from Carhaix-Plouguer is the Abbaye Notre Dame de Daoulas, a restored but still interesting complex near the naval town of Brest. Tradition has it that Leon Guyomarch IV , Vicomte de Leon founded the abbey in 1173 in atonement for the murder of his brother Hamon, Bishop of Leon. All we see now are the decayed vestiges of that great community – a 12th century abbey church, the Romanesque cloister, and a couple of chapels.

Abbaye Notre-Dame de Daoulas, Daoulas (Finistère) Photo by PJ McKey

The abbey church itself underwent a great deal of restoration. The nave and north side aisle are 12th century Romanesque while the choir, side chapels, and south side aisle are 19th century neo-Romanesque.

Nave, Abbaye Notre-Dame de Daoulas, Daoulas (Finistère) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

In the shot of the nave elevation we can see the round arcade arches supported by heavy piers and above the uncentered clerestory windows. The wooden vaulting is very well done and some of the supports have what appear to be 16th century carved wooden decoration.

Nave elevation, Abbaye Notre-Dame de Daoulas, Daoulas (Finistère) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

This low side aisle on the north side of the church is part of the original 12th century construction. I particularly like the quarter-round buttresses from the wooden vaulting supporting the arcade piers.

North side aisle, Abbaye Notre-Dame de Daoulas, Daoulas (Finistère) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

The west portal has some of the most ornate stonework in the church, in this case the rounded archivolts and the simple capitals. The heavy flagstones that make up the floor are clearly visible in this shot as well.

West portal, Abbaye Notre-Dame de Daoulas, Daoulas (Finistère) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

The abbey has the only Romanesque cloister in the region, built by the Abbot Guérault in the late 14th century. There are 44 remaining columns in the structure as it stands today. The cloister features alternating single and double columns with quadruple columns on the corners. Some of the round arches have elegant carved woven motifs on the face of the voussoirs. I imagine that this decoration was on all of the arches originally, but only a few remain.

Cloister, Abbaye Notre-Dame de Daoulas, Daoulas (Finistère) Photo by PJ McKey

The cloister also retains a beautiful octagonal baptismal font from the 12th century. The remains of this lovely cloister bring to mind Rose Macaulay’s “Pleasure of Ruins,” and the melancholy pleasure evoked by such decayed fragments of the past.

Cloister arch, Abbaye Notre-Dame de Daoulas, Daoulas (Finistère) Photo by PJ McKey

“The ascendancy over men’s minds of the ruins of the stupendous past, the past of history, legend and myth, at once factual and fantastic, stretching back and back into ages that can but be surmised, is half-mystical in basis. The intoxication, at once so heady and so devout, is not the romantic melancholy engendered by broken towers and mouldered stones; it is the soaring of the imagination into the high empyrean where huge episodes are tangled with myths and dreams; it is the stunning impact of world history on its amazed heirs.” ― Rose Macaulay, The Pleasure of Ruins

Location: 48.364020° -4.270758°

Abbey Church of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg (Jong-Soung Kimm)

The Abbey on Burgberg of Quedlinburg (pronounced Kvedlinbuerg) was founded in 936 by Otto I, Holy Roman Emperor, at the request of his mother Queen Mathilda (later canonized as Saint Mathilda) in honor of Mathilda’s late husband and Otto’s father, King Heinrich I (Henry the Fowler) for unmarried daughters of nobility. Until its secularization in 1802, it was referred to as Reichsstift (Imperial Abbey) Quedlinburg. The abbey church is dedicated to St. Servatius of Tongeren (present day Netherlands) and St. Denis. Construction of the basilica plan church on the remains of no less than three earlier churches began sometime before 997, and was completed in 1021. The church was rebuilt, after a fire in 1070 caused a severe damage, to almost the present form we would assume, and rededicated in 1129 in the presence of Lothar III.

Abbey Church of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg (Saxon-Anhalt) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The abbey church, one of the masterpieces of the Ottonian Romanesque architecture, is composed of the nave, two aisles, transepts at the eastern end, and the raised choir above the crypt, the resting place of both Henry the Fowler and Mathilda. Both the north and south transepts also have shallow apsidal chapels. The view of the nave conveys a light-filled, airy space defined on either side by processions of precisely constructed niedersachsischer Stutzenwechsel, the pier – two column alternations. The capitals on columns, in contrast to the creative fantasies we observe on column capitals of southern Europe, show discipline and geometrical rigor while chiselling relatively shallow motifs of animals, flowers or purely geometrical design. The shape of the capitals comes across more as dosserets alone without the capitals of classical orders underneath.

Nave, Abbey Church of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg (Saxon-Anhalt) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The view of the nave elevation scheme shows the harmoniously proportioned piers, columns and arches resting on the dosseret-like capitals. Relatively generous clerestory windows let in abundance of light onto the beige-toned sandstone masonry, and transform the nave interior into a solemn, yet blissful space of meditation.

Abbey Church of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg (Saxon-Anhalt) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The view of the north aisle toward the nave, the raised choir and the southern nave wall shows off the high caliber of the master mason and the stone cutters well. Creativity is never lacking, but rather abundantly present, albeit within the intellectual and visual discipline. The column in foreground clearly shows an entasis.

North side aisle, Abbey Church of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg (Saxon-Anhalt) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The view from the choir toward the west shows a two level narthex. The entrance is located to the right (north side) of the narthex, as the west wall of the church abuts the abbey itself.

View of narthex, Abbey Church of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg (Saxon-Anhalt) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The view of the north aisle looking toward the west shows the access to the north tower and the upper narthex.

North side aisle, Abbey Church of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg (Saxon-Anhalt) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The south transept chapel is a picture of restraint itself, with a modest altar with a sculpture of Pieta.

South transept chapel, Abbey Church of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg (Saxon-Anhalt) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The entire city of Quedlinburg is a UNESCO world cultural heritage site. In addition to the abbey church of St. Servatius, which alone would deserve the UNESCO recognition, there are over 1300 half-timber houses on cobble stone streets winding around the large Marktplatz situated at the center of the historic core.

Location: 51.785772° 11.137293°

✜ We are delighted to have another post from Jong-Soung Kimm on our Via Lucis site. For more information on Mr. Kimm, please see this link. ✜

The Joys of the Aveyron (Dennis Aubrey)

This post was inspired by one of our readers. As is often the case when someone writes to us or comments on our work, we look them up. In this way we have discovered so many wonderful people. There are fellow photographers, artists, medievalists, travelers, writers, architects, and people with so many varying interests and contributions to the world of Via Lucis.

In this case it is someone new, a woman from England named Thirza Vallois. She wrote kind words about our recent post “The More Fool to Myself.” I did some research and found that she is an author of books on France. One in particular caught my eye, “Aveyron, a Bridge to French Arcadia”.

I purchased the Kindle version immediately and read it last night. What a joy! To read the names of those villages, to picture the towns and churches in my mind, and to recall the wonderful regional dishes – pounti, truffade, aligot, and estofinado. I could smell the gentiane (we were served the liqueur Aveze made from yellow gentiane while visiting in nearby Heume l’Eglise).

So in honor of this wonderful part of France, here is a quick tour of some churches that we find particularly compelling, beginning with the grand pilgrimage church in the hillside town of Conques.

View of village of Conques (Aveyron) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

The Basilique Sainte Foy is one of the classic pilgrimage churches on the route to Santiago de Compostela with a long, soaring nave, generous side aisles and tribunes high above the nave floor. The arcade pillars feature stützenwechsel, the alternation of square piers and round columns.

Basilique Sainte Foy, Conques (Aveyron) Photo by PJ McKey

The sculpture of the west tympanum and the magnificent capitals all join in to make Sainte Foy one of the greatest Romanesque monuments in the world, filled with surprises at every turn.

Basilique Sainte Foy, Conques (Aveyron) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

Just to the east of Conques are the proximate towns of Espalion and Bessuéjouls. We have posted earlier on the lovey Saint Hilarion-de-Perse in Espalion.

The church was built of the local red sandstone in the shape of a Latin cross, although two Gothic side chapels were added later. It is a beautiful and elegant space, classically Romanesque.

Église Saint Hilarion-de-Perse, Espalion (Aveyron) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

Inside there are remnants of the wall paintings that originally adorned the church, particularly in the vaults. The choir has a lovely triumphal arch supported by two sculpted capitals. One of my favorite features is the presence of the large pediments supporting the pillar clusters.

Nave and transept, Église Saint Hilarion-de-Perse, Espalion (Aveyron) Photo by PJ McKey

The nearby town of Bessuéjouls features another fine Romanesque pilgrimage church, the Eglise Saint-Pierre à Bessuéjouls. The Église Saint Pierre de Bessuéjouls, classified as a UNESCO Heritage site, is tucked into a wooded area near a stream not far from Espalion. The name Bessuéjouls, which means “clearing in the wood,” is of Celtic origin, attesting to an early human habitation.

Romanesque clocher, Eglise Saint-Pierre à Bessuéjouls, Bessuéjouls (Aveyron) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

The most important feature of the church is the Saint Michael’s chapel – known as the chapelle aérienne – a Romanesque masterpiece. This chapel is a small room about 20′x20′ made of pink sandstone. The wooden ceiling is relatively high for the size of the room and supported by six columns with historiated capitals. The capitals look like they were inspired by those of Conques. On the nave wall there are four ranges of colonettes aligned like a cloister.

Chapel, Église Saint-Pierre à Bessuéjouls, Bessuéjouls (Aveyron) Photo by PJ McKey

Finally, a church that we haven’t posted before, the Église Sainte-Eulalie-de-Cerson in Sainte-Eulalie-d’Olt. The town is perched on a hill above the river Lot with the church in a square in the center of town. On the lovely autumn afternoon that we shot there my knee was giving me a great deal of trouble, so I spent time in that square watching the activity of the town. While doing so, something hard struck me on the head and clattered to the pavement. I saw that marroniers were dropping their fruit, what PJ calls “buckeyes”. The square was full of horse chestnut trees and every breeze would send dozens of buckeyes onto the ground. After about ten minutes of this, a man gathered a broom and starting sweeping them up. I thought this was a bit futile because another breeze would come and more would fall. But he kept sweeping until someone passed into the square and a conversation would start. As soon as the conversation ended, the sweeping resumed.

Église Sainte-Eulalie-de-Cerson, Sainte-Eulalie-d’Olt (Aveyron) Photo by Dennis Aubrey

What I remember about the Église Sainte-Eulalie-de-Cerson itself is that the church was graced with an apse with a seven-bay hemicycle and a charming ambulatory. It certainly deserves more than this brief mention and we’ll do it justice in another post sometime.

Ambulatory, Église Sainte-Eulalie-de-Cerson, Sainte-Eulalie-d’Olt (Aveyron) Photo by PJ McKey

So we’d like to thank Thirza Vallois for inspiring us to figuratively revisit the Aveyron. If you haven’t seen this wonderful region and plan to go to the French countryside, consider this area – and read “Aveyron, a Bridge to French Arcadia” before you go – you won’t find a better guide.