Something strange is happening--
there is a great silence on earth today,
a great silence and stillness.
The whole earth keeps silent
because the King is asleep.
It was somewhat of a quiet day until I went out walking this afternoon, and sat a bit by the big tree I like. There was a woodpecker directly above me breaking the silence and stillness in his quest to do whatever woodpeckers do when they peck wood. Google it.
This was a Nuttal's Woodpecker, common to our area.
I came home and started some bread dough for tomorrow. It is similar to the bread I made in my dutch oven when I first got it, but I tweaked the recipe a little. I roasted about 7 cloves of garlic and added it, along with some rosemary and thyme. And some more salt. It requires very little yeast, because there is beer as well, and it rises overnight, but I never trust that so little yeast will be effective, so I add more. Now it is huge. I'll punch it down before bed and let it take over the kitchen overnight.
Our Sunday dinner will be a herb-crusted rack of lamb, roasted potatoes, beets, and carrots, and brussels sprouts. And the bread.
My longtime LJ friend daisydumont posted a lovely picture on another social media site of the labyrinth at Chartres illuminated by candles yesterday, which prompted me to take a picture of a photograph that hangs next to my bed.
It's the same labyrinth in her picture, but taken from above. The photographer is Alain Kilar, a French photographer. I bought it when Malida and I were in Chartres a few years ago and had it framed when I got home. It's often the first thing I see as I sit up in the morning, and one of the last before I fall asleep at night. It fascinates me.
Chartres is about an hour outside of Paris by train. We almost didn't go that day. We were arguing about something, but the argument drifted away once we walked into the cathedral. I had been there once before, but it was as impressive the second time as it was the first. Both times I have been there, the labyrinth was covered up by chairs. A man I met told me that there are certain days that it is uncovered and people can walk it, but that day was not one of them.
After we walked around in the church for a while, we went across the street for a nice cup of coffee and some food, then wandered around the old town. It was a weekday and there weren't really any other tourists beside us. It is a lovely town, and I could easily spend a few days exploring the nooks and crannies.
If I go back to France, I will visit again, on a day that the labyrinth is free of chairs.
I'm listening to Jesus Christ Superstar, which I have listened to on every Saturday before Easter as far back as I can remember. It remains as iconic and powerful as when I first heard it as an impressionable but skeptical 13 year old in 1970.