Saturday Sojourn - Main Street, Historic St. Charles

“This immence river so far as we have yet ascended, waters one of the fairest portions of the globe, not do I believe that there is in the universe a similar extent of country, equally fertile, well watered, and intersected by such a number of navigable streams” Merriweather Lewis to his mother, from Fort Mandan, March 31, 1805, writing about the Missouri River.  (Jackson, vol. 1. p. 223.)

Missouri River bank at St. Charles, Missouri

Remember that infamous Barbara Walters question, "If you were a tree, what kind would you be?"?

Well, I think I would be a willow, most of whom have deep and widely spreading roots. Willows are used a lot for stabilizing soil in danger of sliding or eroding away. Yes, I would be a willow.

I put down roots slowly and deeply. I've lived in the St. Louis region now for over three decades, and it finally feels like home. It will never be my hometown, but I've come to like it very much, if not love it as much as my birthplace.

When I first moved here, I was enchanted by the small historic district in downtown St. Charles (which is on the west bank of the Missouri River across from St. Louis). I knew it would be my saving grace for having been torn, roots and all, from my happy, fertile, spot in Kansas City.

We moved to the St. Charles County area soon after, and have been here now for thirty-five years. I still love going down to Main Street, which is a lovely combination of the French Quarters of New Orleans with a good dose of Williamsburg thrown in for historical significance.

St. Charles, first founded in 1765 as Les Petites Côtes by French Canadian fur trader Louis Blanchette, played a significant role in the United States' westward expansion.  It was the staging area and the last "civilized" stop for the Lewis and Clark Expedition, which was commissioned in 1804 by President Thomas Jefferson to explore the newly gained territory of the Louisana Purchase.

Even many native Missourians are still unaware that St. Charles served as the first Missouri capitol from its entrance into statehood in 1821 to 1826, when the capitol was moved to a  more geographical center of the state, Jefferson City. For more information about historic St. Charles, click HERE.

The Fête des Petites Côtes (Festival of the Little Hills) takes place late in the summer each year, and is a great time to come visit if you like historic re-enactments, lively music, and funnel cakes.

See how far my roots have grown into this new soil of mine? I may be up for a job with the St. Charles Visitor's Center if this keeps up. 

Anyhoo, I had a lovely lunch with friends this week down on Main Street, and thought you might enjoy a walk with me there.



The city is still located right on the banks of the Missouri, just within feet of the Main Street.


The atmosphere here is always vibrant.

 Architecture is a blend of colonial and French influences...

The wavy cobblestone streets enforce a firm "NO HEELS" dress code
 

 
 
And the old wavy glass in the window panes gives an eerie, ghostly reflection to the wares displayed...
 

 Many visitors think this was the location of the first state capitol..

St. Charles County Courthouse

But it's not. The first capitol was located in this small, nondescript mercantile building...

Missouri's first state Capitol Building

The French influence is undeniable. Fleur-de-lis are everywhere

As are French names on shop signs...

  


























Hmmm...this one may be pushing it...

This is a small area packed with huge charm...

With intriguing tiny alleyways...

As well as enormous monuments

Lewis and Clark on the banks of the Missouri River 
Bronze sculpture, Pat Kennedy, 2003 

If you come visit, I'll take you on a tour.

I hope you find a charming spot to spend the day today.

Thinking no one would really care, I opted not to include music on this post.  Well, my sweet friend, Vicki, has called me out on this decision, and so I found this music just for her.

This is an anonymous woman singing a French folk song. I'm sorry I can't be more specific than that. I love the beautiful simplicity of this music, and can well imagine a young woman hanging freshly washed linens from the balcony of one of the buildings set along the picturesque cobblestone streets of Les Petites Côtes over two hundred years ago. I hope you like it as much as I do. Enjoy!

  

Mom's Day



"There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm."- Willa Cather



I'm heading across the state to Kansas City today to tend to my mother and some unexpected health issues. I'm hoping to be back by this evening, but that depends on how the day goes.

I know you understand.

I leave you with a verse from my new favorite poet,

Edna St. Vincent Millay.

  

God's World

O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!

Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!

Thy mists that roll and rise!

Thy woods this autumn day, that ache and sag

And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag

To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!

World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!

 
Long have I known a glory in it all,

But never knew I this;

Here such a passion is

As stretcheth me apart, -- Lord, I do fear

Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year;

My soul is all but out of me, -- let fall

No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 ♥ Kindness is the key to everything.♥

This is Antonin Dvorak's "Songs My Mother Taught Me"
played by Igor Malinovsky. Please enjoy.

I Got the Fever

"It's spring fever.  That is what the name of it is.  And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!"
  - Mark Twain



 

Joan Crawford in "Spring Fever" - 1927


I think this is a lovely picture of a very young (20-ish) Joan Crawford just two years after arriving in Hollywood and changing her name from Lucille LeSueur, which I really don't understand at all, since the French-sounding cabaret-esque name sounds far superior (to me) to the newer one. "Lucille LeSuer" rolls off the tongue, while "Joan Crawford" gets stuck in the back of the throat. I wasn't around, though, to correct this travesty, so the deed was done.

Did you know that little Lucille grew up in Kansas City? Her family moved there when she was about ten, but she went to school, worked there, and eventually even spent a little time at Stephen's College in Columbia, Missouri, before dropping out and moving back to join a dance troupe in Kansas City.

Lucille worked at Emery Byrd Thayer department store as a teenager. That's the department store downtown that my mother would take My Twin and me to (years later, of course) to do our New School Year shopping each August. We would shop all day for school dresses (not actually buying more than one or two each...Mom was a gifted seemstress and 'knocked off' most of what we tried on) and have lunch at the Emery Byrd Thayre tea room. Wonderful memories.

Anyway, Lucille...oops, Joan's movie, "Spring Fever," is a 60-minute silent film about a golf groupie (they existed back then...who knew?) who falls in love with a charming but poor professional golfer who pretends to be rich. Years later, Joan would remark that the film was "a waste of everyone's time and money. God, golf is dull on film."  Well, some things never change. I guess that one won't be lining up in the Netflix queue.

Me, oh, my. Is anyone else feeling it? I have a very bad case of theUgh-I-need-to-move-outdoors-but-I-know-it's-not-quite-time-yet malaise of some sort. I'm anxiously awaiting fair skies, gentle breezes, and warmer temperatures, but rather than filling me with nervous energy, this year's Spring Fever has made me lethargic with daydreaming, imagining, and distraction.

Paralysis is setting in. I find it more and more difficult to tend to my work, my tasks, my chores. The only cure will be blue skies and sunshine, yet I continue to languish, wrapped in the not-so-warm gray chiffon skies of winter.


Jo Floyd Lucas in "Spring Fever" - Paris, 1995

 This is a picture of tree-hugging me on a wonderful outing to the Bois de Boulogne in the heart of Paris. I was slightly older than Joan  was in her photo (like, double her age), but both share a similar dreamy, spring fever feel. I might have missed my calling, now that I look at it. Does anyone still make silent films?

The Bois de Boulogne is to Paris what Central Park is to New York City, except two and a half times larger. Really a system of gardens and parks withing the park proper, it's filled with pristine ponds and nature trails, rose gardens and oak forests, meticulously groomed grounds and authentically wild growth. One could spend weeks exploring the magical vignettes within this wondrously vibrant oasis. I've been longing to go back there and become the Henry Stanley ("Dr. Livingstone, I presume?") of the Bois de Boulogne. 

In my distracted,daydreamy malaise of Spring Fever, that's exactly what I've been doing.

Do you have the fever, too? How do you cope with it? I wonder if it's contagious, this awful fever? How do we keep it from becoming an epidemic? Oh, bother...I'm getting all worked up again. Now I must go lie down and flip through my photo album to settle down. 

I hope you have a wonderful, nearly-spring day today.

This is the quintessential music to illustrate my case of Spring Fever this year...Mendelssohn's "Spring Song". I know you won't be able to listen to it without thinking of this little guy...

Pepe Le Pew in "Spring Fever" - c.1962


That's okay...I can't either...Enjoy!

A Calm, Still Lake

“Make your heart like a lake
with a calm, still surface
and great depths of kindness."
- Lao Tzu

Maiden and Flying Crane - Hsu Roh Ling
silk brocade mat

I may be imagining it, but I think I was the recipient of some interesting omens yesterday. Of course, now I must enlist your help to understand them.  Here's what happened.

I went out to the park at Weldon Spring City Hall with the intention of meditating before my walk, and as I approached, I saw someone I hadn't seen since last fall, Brother Heron--or is it Sister Crane? Can you see her there by the water's edge?

As I walked around the pond to my usual bench, we simply looked at each other, engrossed.

I took a seat and continued to watch. She got bored and turned away.

Just a moment after I snapped this shot, the bird rose gently up into the air. She leisurely unfolded her wings and flew across the pond, right over my head. I felt the whoosh of them as they beat just a few feet above me. You can't really tell by the pictures, but her wingspan was impressive, at least six feet wide. I was startled, but remained calm.

Chinese tradition holds cranes and herons in high esteem. According to my search, I found that they are regarded to be a symbol of longevity, and represent other auspicious traits, like health and happiness.

I looked to my right, and this lovely couple appeared.

These two ducks ignored my stare and walked right past me, down the hill...

and into the water. They were just ducky.

I learned that ducks are a Celtic symbol of honesty, simplicity, and resourcefulness, and represent sensitivity to nature and one's surroundings.

Just then, another couple arrived at the pond.

Two Canada Geese glided soundlessly into the pond directly in front of me. They seemed to want to meet up with the duck couple...

And they did.

According to Native American folklore, those who are kind, loyal, and brave attract geese as their totem. They also known to be true-blue defenders, and will never leave one of their own alone if sick or injured.


I can't ever recall seeing ducks, geese, and cranes/herons at the same time at the same water's edge. Have you?

Maybe these visits from my avian friends were a sign of fortune and good luck. Maybe they were a portent of things to come. Maybe it's simply the fact that I was so happy to be outside yesterday afternoon that I wanted it to be more significant than it was.

What do you think?

I hope you have a day full of good omens, and all of them come to pass.

Here's something new for you. I had the most wonderful time searching for the right music for this post. I wanted the zen flute, but happened across the Chinese bamboo flute, instead, and fell in love with this young lady's talent. Characteristic of the Chinese mindset, I suppose, this artist's name is not listed, though dozens of pieces by her have been posted. She is listed in a few of the videos only as "a skillful girl."

The name of this song is "Ten Thousand Year Happiness" and that is exactly what I'm hoping the visit by the crane might mean. Enjoy!

Hang on to Your Hats

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.”
 -  Charles Dickens

Mars Disarmed by Venus and the Three Graces
Jacques Louis David, Oil on canvas, 1824
Musées Royaux Des Beaux-Arts, Brussels, Belgium

Whew! We made it through February, which I have nominated for "Meanest Month of the Year." Sorry, February, but if we were in school together, I wouldn't sit at your lunch table.

There is no doubt about it, February was brutal this year. I suppose it was bad all over the globe, but in Weldon Spring, February pelted us mercilessly with ice, snow, sleet, and hail on a fairly regular basis. Such a bully...nope, go find another lunch table, buddy.

March has come in like a lamb this year, with bright sun and moderate temperatures today. That's lovely, especially since Mother Nature threw a nasty little temper tantrum late Sunday night, stomping her feet across the midwest, spewing hail all over, ripping up trees here and there, and throwing them into houses and businesses just hours before the end of February. I don't even think I want to be in the same lunchroom with you, Feb.

Today I welcome March with open arms, glad to move a few weeks closer to spring. I only hope I don't regret this warm welcome I'm handing out to the new guy in school.The mere fact that March showed up like a meek little lamb doesn't bode well (according to folklore) for the end of the month, does it?

March is the warring month, named for Mars, the God of War in Roman mythology (his name was Ares to the Greeks).  This is the month when winter and spring typically battle it out on the plains of the midwest, until Spring insists on having her day. I fear it's going to be a nasty fight this year. I hope I'm wrong and March decides to be, as the new guy, friendly and warm. What do you think March holds in store?

Today I wish for you the hint of Spring.

English composer Gustave Holst was a scholar of Greek philosophy and astrology in the early 1900's. His seven-movement orchestral suite, "The Planets" is a nod to the zodiac and the astrological symbols (not to astronomy, as some believe). About an hour long, this entire work deserves a listen, especially if you can hear it live.

This movement, "Mars: The Bringer of War" evokes the full horror of mechanized war, even though it was composed years before the first World War.

Sir Charles Mackerras conducts the BBC Philharmonic orchestra for this performance at the Proms in 2009. (Side note: don't let the the silence at the end of the movement bother you. The audience usually doesn't applaud between movements of any given work.) Enjoy!