Monday 15 October 2007

Blog action day for the environment

On this day dedicated to the environment my theme will naturally be Avignon's trees. Beautiful vegetation above on the island of la Barthelasse as seen from Avignon's highest spot, the top of the Popes' garden, the Rocher des Doms, a beautiful vantage point overlooking the Rhone plains. The silhouetted mountain in the background is Mount Ventoux, where we were last week.

En ce jour consacré à l'environnement, quoi de plus naturel que de vous présenter Avignon en vert, Avignon et ses arbres. Ceux de l'ile de la Barthelasse d'abord, tels qu'on les découvre depuis le sommet du rocher des Doms, le point culminant de la ville qui domine la plaine du Rhône. En silhouette dans le fond, le Mont Ventoux où nous étions la semaine dernière...

Then getting into detail, the plane tree, king tree of the city, a large and majestic tree whose foliage brings shade and and cool to many of Avignon's squares and courtyards. Here on place Pignotte, just round the corner from where I live, framing the façade of a beautiful church.
Puis le platane, arbre roi de la ville, qui prête son port majestueux à de nombreuses places et cours. Ici sur la place Pignotte, juste au coin de chez moi, encadrant la façade somptueuse d'une ancienne église...

Then the olive tree, here photographed in the Jardin des Doms : this tree that won't stand a deep frost epitomises the mild winters of southern France. It also tells of olive oil, indispensable ingredient of our mediterranean cuisine... flavoursome, fruity and healthy !

Puis l'olivier, ici au jardin des Doms : cet arbre qui ne supporte pas le gel profond est le symbole des hivers doux du sud de la France et de l'huile d'olive, savoureuse, fruitée, saine, indispensable ingrédient de la cuisine méditeranéenne !

And last but not least, the fig tree. Nothing to do with what Australians call fig tree, a member of the ficus family, but the real one which actually produces figs. When I arrived here in August, the season was in full swing and I had a dream : to eat a juicy fig picked straight from the tree and warmed by the sun, an absolute treat ! I was telling my sisters about this fantasy as we were walking to market in l'Isle-sur-Sorgue, just 25 kms from Avignon, when we came across a large fig tree whose branches hung over a wall onto the street. I couldn't believe my luck as I picked my first fig in years. Its taste matched my expectations, I was elated. Helped by my sister who lifted me up, I reached to another and then a couple more on higher branches when we heard a voice coming from the garden over the wall :we'd been caught steeling fruit! We started walking away looking as detached and innocent as possible when I realised the voice was actually a friendly one. An old woman appeared at the gate, saying "go ahead, pick some more, it's OK : when we planted this tree ages ago my husband bent it towards the street so it would lean over the wall and offer fruit to passers by. By all means, help yourselves!" Thank you madam for this wonderful gesture, I'd like to think that I'll never forget it.
Et pour finir en beauté, le figuier, encore un arbre qui symbolise le sud ! Les australiens ont un arbre qu'ils appellent "fig tree" mais c'est en fait un membre de la famille des ficus - rien à voir ! Quand je suis revenue ici en Provence en août, j'avais un rêve : cueillir sur l'arbre une figue bien mûre toute chaude de soleil - mmmm, quel régal ! Alors que j'en parlais à mes soeurs en allant au marché de l'Isle-sur-Sorgue, à 25km d'Avignon, on tombe sur un figuier dont les branches débordaient d'un haut mur. Quelle chance ! Je cueille une figue, je me délecte en remerciant le ciel, c'était une merveille. Aidée par ma soeur qui me fait la courte échelle, j'en cueille une autre, puis une troisième, quand tout à coup une voix se fait entendre de l'autre côté du mur ! Ciel, nous sommes découvertes ! Alors que nous fuyons comme des gamines (mais posément, l'air détaché), je réalise que la voix est en fait amicale. Une femme agée sort sur le seuil du jardin en disant : "Servez-vous, y'a pas de mal, c'est fait pour ça. Voyez, quand mon mari a planté cet arbre il y a des années, il l'a penché exprès vers la rue pour que les branches dépassent du mur et que les passants puissent se servir !" Ah madame, merci ! J'aimerais penser que je n'oublierai jamais votre geste.
Bloggers Unite - Blog Action Day Learn more about Blog Action Day here.

29 comments:

Fénix - Bostonscapes said...

What a wonderful story! Now I know where I must be next August: Isle-sur-Sorgue, just 25 kms from Avignon, where the house with the fig tree is! :)

DeepBlueSea said...

Me too, see you beneath the fig tree next year!

Tell me, how are the local wines compared to Australia's? After all, you're in the land of Chateauneuf de Pape... mmm..

DeepBlueSea said...

Sorry, that should be
Châteauneuf-du-Pape !

Anonymous said...

Deepbluesea, I'm not a fine connoisseur of wines and lack any sort of authority to talk about them, but I usually found Aussie red wines too strong for me, whereas I love French reds. In Australia, I'd rather go for a chilled Chardonnay.

I'll have to take you on a wine tasting tour to Chateauneuf du Pape one day! It's not only a fine wine area but a beautiful village too!
Cheers! Santé!

DeepBlueSea said...

Oh, I'm sooo looking forward to that tour of yours!
I can just imagine how pretty it would be there.

PS now it's dinner time in Australia and I'm having a glass of Wynns Cabernet Shiraz Merlot. Very good, but probably more like a Bordeaux style than a southern Rhone.

Still, I know that tonight I will dream of Châteauneuf-du-Pape !

Sally said...

We usd to have ahuge fig tree in our backyard in Melbourne when I was a child, and our next door neighbours (Italian) have one here in Sydney! Unfortunately when I was a child I didn't appreciate the fruits of the fig, but i remember my mum used to LOVE them! I can picture her with fig juice down her front!

Anonymous said...

Très jolie l'histoire de la vieille dame. Comme une promesse que les richesses de la terre sont accessibles à tout le monde. Quant à l'olivier, je suis surprise de le trouver ici, aux dernières nouvelles, il était parti à New York. Petit cachotier. ;-) Bonne soirée!

Anonymous said...

A really nice theme for this entry. Once again we are reminded that trees are a central facet of our lives, even if we sometimes take them for granted. I was reminded that I never even new what a real fresh fig looked like until I visited the continent (all dried stuff and syrup-of-figs in the UK in my youth). Fresh figs are certainly wonderful. Just yesterday I picked up a sandwich for lunch - fresh rustic baguette with serrano ham and figs - yummy

Peter said...

Have been away for some two / three weeks. So pleased to understand that you are now really settled in Avignon! ... and the fig story is just marvellous!

Cergie said...

Mon petit doigt me dit que tu commences à vraiment apprivoiser la lumière d'Avignon qui n'est guère facile.
En tout cas, tu photographies toujours aussi bien les feuilles d'arbres. La preuve celles du figuier. Nous avons des figuiers en région parisienne aussi mais je ne suis pas sûre que je me délecterais autant avec, que de celles cueillies sur l'arbre ds le sud de la France.
Je n'aime guère le port de cet arbre, je le trouve mou. Comme celui du sumac de virginie ou du frangipanier ds lequel j'aimais grimper petite

Ton histoire de fruit dérobé (et donc bien meilleur) me fait penser aux actinidias femelles (des kiwis) que papa avait plantés contre le mur du jardin dans les Vosges. Je me souviens de personnes dressant une échelle et les cueillant sans se douter que le fruit a besoin de froid pour être bon...
De toute façon, tout ce qui dépasse appartient à tout le monde... à condition que cela soit tombé à terre d'une façon naturelle !

AHAHA !

Maxime said...

J'ai adoré ton histoire sur les figues, et je trouve que c'est une belle conclusion pour la journée de l'environnement : Il n'y a pas de développement durable sans le retour au goût des choses simples, et surtout, sans leur partage. Planter un arbre près du mur, pour que les passants en aient aussi leur part, voici une chose qu'il nous faut réapprendre...

Anonymous said...

I have clear recollections of picking and eating fresh figs, Nathalie, at the rear of a panel beating garage in the Kingsford Smith area in what nust have been the 1951 Elections. It was a genuine fig, mind you, not the Morton Bay variety. Ye "Olden Times" weren't always as unaquainted with the world as is sometimes assumed.

I'm off now to tackle an American "scientist" who's in Australia to warn that fluoridation is poisoning us. I'll have fun? Regards.

CaBaCuRl said...

Great that you have moved into your place, Nathalie. Love your fig story too...how wonderfully generous of heart those people were.

Anonymous said...

The great part of the story is that the lady was clearly originally from North Africa, with an arab-looking face and a scarf. Her kindness was a great antidote to the terrorist fear that many tend to associate with muslims these days.

La meilleure partie de l'histoire est que cette dame était clairement d'origine nord-africaine : elle portait le foulard et avait des traits et un accent arabes. Sa gentillesse était le meilleur antidote qui soit à l'association musulman- terroriste qui sévit actuellement.

Anonymous said...

longtemps que je n'étais paséé chez toi. C'est quand m^me beau ce coin de France

bv said...

Bonjour ma belle, magnifiques couleurs, superbes lumières, la¨Provence y a pas, c'est quand même sacrémént beau.
J'attends tes coordonnées sur mon mail pour te filer un coup de bigo, ou te bigoter un coup de fil. Au choix.
Bises.

Anonymous said...

De belles photos de régions que j'adore ... :-)))

Anonymous said...

Your story is so heart-warming, Nathalie. I love hearing it. Especially because I love fresh figs. We had a fig tree outside our apartment in Istanbul, and I remember being astonished by it. Only ever had "Fig Newtons" (cookies/biscuits) as a kid, that's the closest I got to eating figs. Never knew how delectable they are fresh.

Ming the Merciless said...

What a beautiful story!! I hope you get a chance to go back and pick figs from the tree. The old woman is extremely gracious and nice to share her fruits with everyone.

The first time I ate a fresh fig was when I lived in Astoria. There were a couple Middle Eastern grocery stores that sell them so I bought a couple to try. They were delicious!!

ruma said...

Thank you for visiting my blog.
I am very honored.

I am made to admire the beauty of your photographs.

There is wonderful green in your blog a lot like the forest of the black pine.

Thank you.
Greetings.

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