The mayor arrives to open the town hall. By eight, the time voting is due to start, a dozen farmers and their tractors are already waiting. Bob eyes them warily from his stump seat.
One of those clear mornings when the ground is covered with the lightest layer of mist. By the time we've made it down the hill to the little stream the mist has burnt off. The PONs love this weather. Whether their enjoyment is down to the winter chill or the abundance of mud is unknown. Perhaps it's both ?
In the market hall they're unveiling the Christmas creche. The local dance troupe ' The Artichoke Troubadors' has come along to provide some folkloric colour. They twirl and skip and thrum for a full half an hour.
The villagers look on. Interestingly, none of them volunteer to join in the folkloric twirling when invited to do so.
In the church they've renovated the wall painting behind the plaster statue of the Lady of Lourdes. A swarm of what appear to be absent minded cherubs surround her. With their garlands of lillys and swags of roses they seem just a shade too frisky to be wholly pious.
7 comments:
The Artichoke Troubadours? You couldn't make it up.
Cheers! Gail.
Bob knows - it's the mud !
Looking at the average age of the Artichoke Troubadors, one has to admire their stamina!
Friskiness is in the eye of the beholder. If you lined the Artichokes up beforehand I would have doubts that they'd go for 10 mins.
Oh my goodness, The Artichoke Troubadours, I love it!!!
Angus I think I see you dancing a folkloric twirly jig with the dancers....big smile.
But only if he has the right hat !
That first hoto of the Artichokes looks like a painting. The light is wonderful!
We agree. That first photo is reminiscent of the Dutch masters.
Frolic and piety seldom make for a harmonious composition as evidenced here.
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