October 18 sunrise at Saint-Aignan

I always put a lot of photos in my posts, but I don't like posts that are just photos without much text. Well, here's one anyway. This time of year, as the weather changes from warm and dry to chilly and damp, our skies here in Saint-Aignan are spectacular, especially at sunrise and sunset.

Below, three photos I took yesterday between 8:00 and 8:15 as
Callie and I set out on our morning walk into the vineyard

Yesterday was a good example. Clear weather was ending as a rain front moved into northern France off the Atlantic Ocean and the British Isles. The early morning hours were a lot windier than they had been for a couple of weeks. Sunrise, which occurs at about 8:30 a.m. right now, cast a pink and purple glow onto the wispy clouds that were starting to form overhead.

And then three photos that I took at 8:18,
all from the same spot but at different zoom levels

The walk wasn't a long one. We only went about halfway out into the vineyard — a kilometer or so — because I was too busy taking pictures from my favorite places and angles to walk much farther. Callie just did her exploring and smelling, waiting for me. Farther out, as you get to the higher ground at the top of the vineyard, the views change completely. They're better when you're closer to the river valley, because of the differences in elevation I think.

And finally, three shots I took between 8:24 and 8:27,
as I was getting close to the house

I'm using a Panasonic Lumix DMC-ZS1 digital camera, which is small enough to fit in my pocket. I love the camera, and I've had it for three years now I believe, but I'm starting to get visions of a new camera in my future. Don't forget that you can click the pictures with your mouse to see them at a larger size.

Le Mémorial de Mondement

We had driven all the way down the Côte des Blancs, from Epernay to Vertus and Bergère-lès-Vertus, finishing up at the top of the Mont Aimé to see the view from there. I noticed on the map that the area just to the south was a described on the map as a swamp — les Marais de Saint-Gond — and I wanted to see it before returning north to Epernay and Bouzy.

I grabbed this picture off Google Maps — it's what we saw
from a distance as we drove through the Saint-Gond "swamp."

From the road we were on — the D45 through Vert-Toulon to Broussy-le-Petit, and then joining the D44 toward Reuves and Oyes — we couldn't really see much besides fields, woods, and pretty villages. It was getting late in the day and I didn't want to turn off onto really small roads to see if we could find an actual swamp or marsh.

Le Mémorial de Mondement, in the Marne

At one point, the D44 and the D45 diverged. We took the fork to the right to head back north. Off to the south, however, we could see a gigantic tower or obelisk of some kind, sort of up at the top of a hill. I hadn't seen anything on the map or in the guidebook about it. "Tant pis," I said to Cheryl, "let's make tracks for Epernay and get back to the gîte. I don't know what that big monument might be." Walt was snoozing in the back seat, and Callie was, as always, hunkered down on the seat too, beside him, refusing to even look up and see what we were driving by.

Le Château de Mondement

Just then we approached a little crossroads, with a car sitting at the stop sign on the right. It crossed in front of us, driving up a lane that seemed to lead up to the big pinky-orangey tower with the funny nose on it, making it look like some strange tomahawk. I made a split decision and turned left to follow that car. As we approached, we could see how enormous the monument really was.

This pretty church is next to the Mondement Memorial.

It turned out to be the Mémorial de Mondement, on the territory of the village of Mondement-Mongivroux, erected to mark the French victory over the Germans at the first battle of the Marne, in September 1914. The memorial is more than 35 meters — 115 feet — tall and constructed of poured concrete over a steel frame. Just across the road is the Château de Mondement, and on the other side a pretty church surrounded by an old graveyard.

Le Maréchal Joffre, among other officers and soldiers

The Mémorial de Mondement made a nice rest stop for us. Callie got out of the car and stretched her legs. Cheryl and I took a lot of pictures. Walt stretched out on the grassy knoll on which the memorial stands and continued his nap. We still had a 30-minute drive back to Epernay and Bouzy ahead of us.

Minus the haze

Remember this photo from the other day? Just below is another one of the same subject that I took a couple of seconds later, after my camera's lens had gotten defogged. It was our second day in Bouzy, and we had bought these two bottles the day before. Yes, they were empty.

So what are they? Château de Bligny is a champagne house in the Aube département. The property is a few miles east of the city of Troyes. The grapes grown there are Chardonnay, and the champagne is 100% Chardonnay — a Blanc de Blancs. We found it to be exceedingly dry and chalky-tasting. We had bought it at the supermarket.

But maybe that was because we tried it right after tasting the other one, which we had bought in a shop in Bouzy. It's a Blanc de Noirs, which means the grapes used to make it were exclusively Pinot Noir. The wine was much fruitier. Bouzy is in the Marne département, north of the Aube and much closer to Epernay and Reims.

I still have some posts to do about our trip to Champagne. On the radio and on TV, they're saying that today might our last nice summery day of the year. Rain is moving in. I've got to get some yard and garden work done.

La Côte des Blancs (2)

These are some more pictures that I took during our drive down the Côte des Blancs from Epernay to the little town of Vertus about 10 days ago, in Champagne. We had spent part of the morning talking to Jean-Luc Guillemette in Bouzy and going down to explore his family's wine cellar.

In the little town of Vertus, vines grow
on the hillside above the streets and houses.

The weather had turned much cooler and breezier since our arrival in Bouzy, and we had even had a few rain showers. Luckily, the clouds broke that afternoon, at least partially, and we decided to set out and do some sightseeing. I really enjoyed being out in the fresh air and taking in the sweeping vistas from the road that runs down the Côte des Blancs.

Looking out over Le Mesnil-sur-Oger on the Côte des Blancs
Remember that you can click on the pictures to see them in a larger size.

Champagne is the northernmost wine region of France. Grapes have been grown there for many centuries, but the process for making the wines sparkle is only a couple of hundred years old. Because champagne wines are good made in a very dry style, the grapes don't have to be completely ripe when they are picked. For sweeter champagnes, and even many of the dry versions, sugar is added in the wine-making process (which is called la méthode champenoise).

Looking north from the top of Le Mont Aimé (240 m) toward
the village of Bergères-les-Vertus and the town of Vertus

Actually, the city of Reims is farther north at 49º latitude than Quebec City or Fargo ND (both at 46º) or Seattle (47º). Vancouver BC is at the same latitude as Reims. No U.S. city outside Alaska is that far north, not even the most northern towns in Maine. Saint-Aignan, like Seattle, is at 47º north. Maritime influences, mainly the Gulf Stream, make northern France much warmer in winter than places like Fargo or Quebec City.

Closer, with the Montagne de Reims in the background...

Still, frost is a problem in the Champagne vineyards, especially in the spring. If the tender new flower and leaf buds on the vines freeze, the year's grape crop can be severely reduced. Because the grapes are picked before they are over-ripe, frost in autumn is not such a big danger. In fact, Jean-Luc Guillemette in Bouzy said that because of climate change, the grape harvest in Champagne now usually take place in September, while the weather is still warm, rather than in October as it did 25 or 30 years ago.

...and closest

All this rambling about how far north we are here also has me thinking about how short the days are now. This morning the sun didn't come up until 8:15. In two weeks, we'll change the clocks back, so that it will be light an hour earlier in the morning but also dark an hour earlier in the afternoon. In December and January, the sun goes down as early as 4:30 p.m. To prepare, I'm busy a few hours each day getting the garden cleaned up and raking up autumn leaves.