10-11-2011, 01:51
On s'éloigne de Tolkien (encore que...), mais ce fuseau fait naître des envies de randonnées, de vent frais, de ciel pur et de montagnes :-)
<a href='http://www.geog.port.ac.uk/webmap/thelakes/html/otley/ot02plid.htm' target='_blank'><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6116/6329641873_bac5ce96fb_z.jpg" width="500"></a>
<small><font color=gray>Jonathan Otley, <i>The District of the Lakes, Cumberland, Westmorland, and Lancashire</i> (1833)</font></small>
Le <a href="http://www.lakedistrict.gov.uk/index/visiting/outdoors/mileswithoutstiles/mws12.htm" target=_blank>Blea Tarn</a> du parc national de <a href="http://www.lakedistrict.gov.uk/" target=_blank>Lake District</a>, en Angleterre :
<img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6094/6329640121_caf8de4b69_z.jpg" width="500">
Ce lac de montagne a vivement inspiré William Wordsworth en son temps (un temps où aucun arbre n’entourait le lac, ce qui n’est plus le cas déjà à la fin du XIXe) :
[citation]« These serious words<br>Closed the preparatory notices <br>With which my Fellow-traveller had beguiled <br>The way, while we advanced up that wide vale.<br>Now, suddenly diverging, he began <br>To climb upon its western side a ridge <br>Pathless and smooth, a long and steep ascent, <br>As if the object of his quest had been <br>Some secret of the mountains, cavern, fall <br>Of water, or some boastful eminence <br>Renowned for splendid prospect far and wide; »[/citation]
<a href="http://www.geog.port.ac.uk/webmap/thelakes/html/garnetth/m00114p.htm " target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6112/6329642037_f5b2e219da_z.jpg" width="500" height="417" alt="Blea Tarn_Garnett Map_entouré"></a>
<small><font color=gray>John Garnett, <i>Map of the English Lakes, in Cumberland, Westmorland and Lancashire</i>, c. 1850-1860</font></small>
[citation]« We clomb, without a track to guide our steps, <br>And on the summit reached a heathy plain,<br>With a tumultuous waste of huge hill-tops<br>Before us; savage region! and I walked<br>In weariness: when, all at once, behold!<br>Beneath our feet, a little lowly vale,<br>A lowly vale, and yet uplifted high<br>Among the mountains; even as if the spot<br>Had been from eldest time by wish of theirs<br>So placed, to be shut out from all the world! »[/citation]
<img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6056/6329642225_159de71055_z.jpg" width="599" height="401" alt="Blea tarn_Steve Glover">
<small><font color=gray>Blea Tarn (© Steve Glover) </font></small>
[citation]« Urn-like it was in shape, deep as an urn;<br>With rocks encompassed, save that to the south<br>Was one small opening, where a heath-clad ridge<br>Supplied a boundary less abrupt and close;<br>A quiet, treeless nook, with two green fields,<br>A liquid pool that glittered in the fun,<br>And one bare dwelling; one abode, no more! »[/citation]
<a href="http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langdale_Pikes" target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6031/6330391522_13c69a2e15.jpg" width="500" height="391" alt="Blea tarn 03"></a>
[citation]« It seemed the home of poverty and toil,<br>Though not of want: the little fields, made green<br>By husbandry of many thrifty years,<br>Paid cheerful tribute to the moorland house.<br>— There crows the cock, single in his domain:<br>The small birds find in spring no thicket there<br>To shroud them; only from the neighbouring vales<br>The cuckoo, straggling up to the hill-tops,<br>Shouteth faint tidings of some gladder place. »[/citation]
<a href="http://www.jamesalder.co.uk/gallery-image/228/ " target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6228/6330390578_169d0579e6_o.jpg" width="460" height="270" alt="Blea tarn_Charles Pettitt (1831-1885)"></a>
<small><font color=gray>Charles Pettitt (1831-1885) -- « Sunset The Langdale Pikes from Blea Tarn Westmorland » (1879)</font></small>
[citation]« It seemed the home of poverty and toil,<br>Though not of want: the little fields, made green<br>By husbandry of many thrifty years,<br>Paid cheerful tribute to the moorland house.<br>— There crows the cock, single in his domain:<br>The small birds find in spring no thicket there<br>To shroud them; only from the neighbouring vales<br>The cuckoo, straggling up to the hill-tops,<br>Shouteth faint tidings of some gladder place. »[/citation]
<a href="http://www.heatoncooper.co.uk/product.php?xProd=1547" target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6098/6329641511_80f4f715c4_z.jpg" width="507" height="340" alt="Blea Tarn_William Heaton Cooper"></a>
[citation]« Ah ! what a sweet Recess, thought I, is here ! <br>Instantly throwing down my limbs at ease <br>Upon a bed of heath; — full many a spot <br>Of hidden beauty have I chanced to espy <br>Among the mountains ; never one like this ; <br>So lonesome, and so perfectly secure ; <br>Not melancholy no, for it is green, <br>And bright, and fertile, furnished in itself <br>With the few needful things that life requires. »[/citation]
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/12658553@N05/6330390740/" target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6216/6330390918_fdfdbeb2d7_o.jpg" width="500" alt="Blea tarn_photochrome_small"></a>
<small><font color=gray><a href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2002696841/" target=_blank>Photochrome</a>, c. 1890 - c. 1900</font></small>
[citation=William Wordsworth (1770-1850), <a href='http://books.google.fr/books?id=k1MCAAAAQAAJ&dq=blea%20tarn%20wordsworth&hl=fr&pg=PA32#v=onepage&q&f=false' target='_blank'><i>The Excursion</i></a>, Bk II, « The Solitary » (1814)]« — In rugged arms how soft it seems to lie, <br>How tenderly protected ! Far and near <br>We have an image of the pristine earth, <br>The planet in its nakedness : were this <br>Man's only dwelling, sole appointed seat, <br>First, last, and single, in the breathing world, <br>It could not be more quiet : peace is here ,<br>Or nowhere ; days unruffled by the gale <br>Of public news or private ; years that pass <br>Forgetfully ; uncalled upon to pay <br>The common penalties of mortal life, <br>Sickness, or accident, or grief, or pain. »[/citation]
<img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6049/6329642331_3183ccbda8_z.jpg" width="500" alt="Blea tarn_Trevor Kersley">
<small><font color=gray>Blea Tarn (© Trevor Kersley)</font></small>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/12658553@N05/6330390122/"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6240/6330390122_15889c428b_z.jpg" width="640" height="427" alt="Blea tarn"></a>
<a href='http://www.geog.port.ac.uk/webmap/thelakes/html/otley/ot02plid.htm' target='_blank'><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6116/6329641873_bac5ce96fb_z.jpg" width="500"></a>
<small><font color=gray>Jonathan Otley, <i>The District of the Lakes, Cumberland, Westmorland, and Lancashire</i> (1833)</font></small>
Le <a href="http://www.lakedistrict.gov.uk/index/visiting/outdoors/mileswithoutstiles/mws12.htm" target=_blank>Blea Tarn</a> du parc national de <a href="http://www.lakedistrict.gov.uk/" target=_blank>Lake District</a>, en Angleterre :
<img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6094/6329640121_caf8de4b69_z.jpg" width="500">
Ce lac de montagne a vivement inspiré William Wordsworth en son temps (un temps où aucun arbre n’entourait le lac, ce qui n’est plus le cas déjà à la fin du XIXe) :
[citation]« These serious words<br>Closed the preparatory notices <br>With which my Fellow-traveller had beguiled <br>The way, while we advanced up that wide vale.<br>Now, suddenly diverging, he began <br>To climb upon its western side a ridge <br>Pathless and smooth, a long and steep ascent, <br>As if the object of his quest had been <br>Some secret of the mountains, cavern, fall <br>Of water, or some boastful eminence <br>Renowned for splendid prospect far and wide; »[/citation]
<a href="http://www.geog.port.ac.uk/webmap/thelakes/html/garnetth/m00114p.htm " target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6112/6329642037_f5b2e219da_z.jpg" width="500" height="417" alt="Blea Tarn_Garnett Map_entouré"></a>
<small><font color=gray>John Garnett, <i>Map of the English Lakes, in Cumberland, Westmorland and Lancashire</i>, c. 1850-1860</font></small>
[citation]« We clomb, without a track to guide our steps, <br>And on the summit reached a heathy plain,<br>With a tumultuous waste of huge hill-tops<br>Before us; savage region! and I walked<br>In weariness: when, all at once, behold!<br>Beneath our feet, a little lowly vale,<br>A lowly vale, and yet uplifted high<br>Among the mountains; even as if the spot<br>Had been from eldest time by wish of theirs<br>So placed, to be shut out from all the world! »[/citation]
<img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6056/6329642225_159de71055_z.jpg" width="599" height="401" alt="Blea tarn_Steve Glover">
<small><font color=gray>Blea Tarn (© Steve Glover) </font></small>
[citation]« Urn-like it was in shape, deep as an urn;<br>With rocks encompassed, save that to the south<br>Was one small opening, where a heath-clad ridge<br>Supplied a boundary less abrupt and close;<br>A quiet, treeless nook, with two green fields,<br>A liquid pool that glittered in the fun,<br>And one bare dwelling; one abode, no more! »[/citation]
<a href="http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langdale_Pikes" target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6031/6330391522_13c69a2e15.jpg" width="500" height="391" alt="Blea tarn 03"></a>
[citation]« It seemed the home of poverty and toil,<br>Though not of want: the little fields, made green<br>By husbandry of many thrifty years,<br>Paid cheerful tribute to the moorland house.<br>— There crows the cock, single in his domain:<br>The small birds find in spring no thicket there<br>To shroud them; only from the neighbouring vales<br>The cuckoo, straggling up to the hill-tops,<br>Shouteth faint tidings of some gladder place. »[/citation]
<a href="http://www.jamesalder.co.uk/gallery-image/228/ " target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6228/6330390578_169d0579e6_o.jpg" width="460" height="270" alt="Blea tarn_Charles Pettitt (1831-1885)"></a>
<small><font color=gray>Charles Pettitt (1831-1885) -- « Sunset The Langdale Pikes from Blea Tarn Westmorland » (1879)</font></small>
[citation]« It seemed the home of poverty and toil,<br>Though not of want: the little fields, made green<br>By husbandry of many thrifty years,<br>Paid cheerful tribute to the moorland house.<br>— There crows the cock, single in his domain:<br>The small birds find in spring no thicket there<br>To shroud them; only from the neighbouring vales<br>The cuckoo, straggling up to the hill-tops,<br>Shouteth faint tidings of some gladder place. »[/citation]
<a href="http://www.heatoncooper.co.uk/product.php?xProd=1547" target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6098/6329641511_80f4f715c4_z.jpg" width="507" height="340" alt="Blea Tarn_William Heaton Cooper"></a>
[citation]« Ah ! what a sweet Recess, thought I, is here ! <br>Instantly throwing down my limbs at ease <br>Upon a bed of heath; — full many a spot <br>Of hidden beauty have I chanced to espy <br>Among the mountains ; never one like this ; <br>So lonesome, and so perfectly secure ; <br>Not melancholy no, for it is green, <br>And bright, and fertile, furnished in itself <br>With the few needful things that life requires. »[/citation]
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/12658553@N05/6330390740/" target=_blank><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6216/6330390918_fdfdbeb2d7_o.jpg" width="500" alt="Blea tarn_photochrome_small"></a>
<small><font color=gray><a href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2002696841/" target=_blank>Photochrome</a>, c. 1890 - c. 1900</font></small>
[citation=William Wordsworth (1770-1850), <a href='http://books.google.fr/books?id=k1MCAAAAQAAJ&dq=blea%20tarn%20wordsworth&hl=fr&pg=PA32#v=onepage&q&f=false' target='_blank'><i>The Excursion</i></a>, Bk II, « The Solitary » (1814)]« — In rugged arms how soft it seems to lie, <br>How tenderly protected ! Far and near <br>We have an image of the pristine earth, <br>The planet in its nakedness : were this <br>Man's only dwelling, sole appointed seat, <br>First, last, and single, in the breathing world, <br>It could not be more quiet : peace is here ,<br>Or nowhere ; days unruffled by the gale <br>Of public news or private ; years that pass <br>Forgetfully ; uncalled upon to pay <br>The common penalties of mortal life, <br>Sickness, or accident, or grief, or pain. »[/citation]
<img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6049/6329642331_3183ccbda8_z.jpg" width="500" alt="Blea tarn_Trevor Kersley">
<small><font color=gray>Blea Tarn (© Trevor Kersley)</font></small>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/12658553@N05/6330390122/"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6240/6330390122_15889c428b_z.jpg" width="640" height="427" alt="Blea tarn"></a>