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Apocalyptic Metamorphosis I - Nuclear by Daniel Arrhakis (2015)
The First work of my series Apocalyptic Metamorphosis; a Series of Seven Works, seven personal visions about our World today ..
I believe That artists are more than painters and sculptors of beauty ... sometimes they are the prophets of a new Hope and Transformation ... specially in a World closed in itself with fear of everything and rule by economists unscrupulous, dictators and assassins !
The main figures were based in the sculptures of the great artist Manfred Kielnhofer.
With the music : Audiomachine - Legacy of the Lost
Latest data on how many nuclear weapons there are in the World shows approximately by default that there are almost 16,000 nuclear warheads in the world, which is down from 64,000 in 1986 at the height of the Cold War.
The beginning of a new Series about the future of The World, this series has a sense of transformation is not a immutable fate ... so it depends on us ... all of us !
" ... We know now more than ever before that the risks are too high, the dangers too real. It is time for States, and all those of us in a position to influence them, to act with urgency and determination to bring the era of nuclear weapons to an end. " ( INTERNATIONAL COMMITTEE OF THE RED CROSS, part of a Statement, 18 FEBRUARY 2015 ) :
www.icrc.org/en/document/nuclear-weapons-ending-threat-hu...
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Work in SURREALART challenge "The seven deadly sins" :
www.flickr.com/groups/2676496@N21/discuss/72157657014591589/
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Thank you for your support and visit, so sorry for some delay in answer, trying catching up but slowly because i am with much work !
Thank you for your understand dear friends and my best wishes for a great weekend ! : )
Blue enigma of ages, ringed with immutable rock,
Fiery cradle of mountains whose barren ridged mock
Man's puny and ceaseless endeavor, his straining and pigmy strife;
Let him look on the patience of ages and know the end of life.
Mighty forge of the Titans where mountains were welded and made,
Glaciers have cooled your seething, hemlocks reared their shade,
And now you mirror your cradle, your mountain-making done,
And now your inscrutable depths reflect the dwelling of the sun.
Now men stand safe on your lava brink with awe intaken breath
Lost in the contemplation of a mighty mountains' death.~Russell Andrews, park ranger
Crater Lake National Park
this particular night as an amazing and magic sky colours
The Smashing Pumpkins - Stand Inside Your Love
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2nm4xv3firw&list=RDMM&ind...
You and me
Meant to be
Immutable
Impossible
It's destiny
Pure lunacy
Incalculable
Insufferable
But for the last time
You're everything that I want and ask for
You're all that I'd dreamed
Who wouldn't be the one you love
Who wouldn't stand inside your love
Protected and the lover of
A pure soul and beautiful you
Don't understand
Don't feel me now
I will breathe
For the both of us
Travel the world
Traverse the skies
Your home is here
Within my heart
And for the first time
I feel as though I am reborn
In my mind
Recast as child and mystic sage
Who wouldn't be the one you love
Who wouldn't stand inside your love
And for the first time
I'm telling you how much I need and bleed for
Your every move and waking sound
In my time
I'll wrap my wire around your heart and your mind
You're mine forever now
Who wouldn't be the one you love and live for
Who wouldn't stand inside your love and die for
Who wouldn't be the one you love
La marée est haute, le soleil est sur le déclin. Les bateaux, l'un après l'autre rentrent au port. Le rituel semble immuable. Venant du nord, ils s'enroulent à peine autour du phare et se laissent porter jusqu'à la digue opposée. Baisser les gaz à l'entrée du port. Emporté par son élan, le nez du bateau s'enfonce doucement dans l'eau. Soulevé par cette vague, il semble soudain comme en apesanteur. Oubliés le poids du navire, des machines. Se peut-il qu'il se transforme finalement en albatros ? Bien trop vite, le capitaine nous ramène à la raison. Le bateau reprend son rythme et s'enfonce doucement dans les profondeurs du port de Fécamp.
A son bord les hommes ont hâte de rentrer. La journée a été froide. De ce froid pressant qui s'insinue sous les cirés. De ce froid qui n'autorise pas le moindre confort, qui ne vous lâche plus une fois qu'il vous a pris, qui, malgré les efforts, ne vous laisse pas de doute. Il aura toujours raison.
Aujourd'hui, la mer était calme.
--- English translation with the help of deepl.com ---
The tide is high, the sun is on the decline. The ships, one after the other, return to the harbor. The ritual seems immutable. Coming from the north, they barely wrap themselves around the lighthouse and let themselves be carried to the opposite dike. Lower the throttle at the entrance to the harbor. Carried away by its momentum, the boat's nose gently sinks into the water. Raised by this wave, it suddenly seems like weightlessness. Forget the weight of the ship, the machines. Can it be that she finally transforms herself into an albatross? Far too quickly, the captain brings us back to reason. The boat resumed its rhythm and slowly sinks into the depths of the port of Fécamp.
On board, the men are eager to return. It's been a cold day. From this pressing cold that creeps in under the oilskins. This cold weather that does not allow the slightest comfort, that does not let you go once it has taken you, that, despite all the efforts, does not leave you in any doubt. It will always win.
Today, the sea was calm.
He stood on the edge of the world, a lone figure suspended between sky and stone. Before him sprawled New Zealand's Southern Alps, their peaks — Poseidon, Sarpedon, Amphion — rising like silent arguments carved from light and ice. The glacier unfurled its pale tongue, an ancient current arrested mid-sentence, its surface rippled with the memory of motion. The air shimmered, crystalline and unrepentant, a cold clarity that cut to the marrow.
Lake Agnes lay below, a still pool, dark and sharp as polished obsidian. It absorbed the landscape without a ripple, the reflection a perfect inversion—mountains upside down, the sky swallowed by earth. The scene was a paradox: immensity caught in a whisper, time paused on the brink of collapse. He felt the grass brittle beneath his boots, the wind threading through the crevices of his jacket—a touch neither warm nor cruel, merely indifferent.
For three days he had wrestled through the entrails of the land. The rainforest had closed around him with a suffocating lushness, roots coiling like serpents beneath the moss. Streams foamed with a glacial bite, the waters quick and thoughtless, bruising his ankles as he waded through. Thorned thickets tore at his skin with the intimacy of old grudges. He climbed slopes slick with rain, his body folded into painful angles, the horizon always receding. When he reached this place, the fog had been thick enough to erase the contours of the world. His tent had trembled in the night winds, the cold seeping in like an unwelcome thought.
But then dawn came, unburdened and lucid. The veil lifted, and the mountains revealed themselves in their raw articulation. They did not posture or proclaim—they simply were, immutable and unscripted. The glacier’s silence was more profound than any roar; the peaks did not loom so much as exist beyond scale.
Here, in this distilled emptiness, the trivial machinery of the world he had fled seemed absurd. The restless striving, the ceaseless revolutions of ambition and vanity—all of it shrank to the size of a pebble lost in a chasm. There was no wheel here to turn, no circuit to complete. Only the landscape, bare and relentless in its honesty.
He filled his lungs, the air sharp enough to taste. It was an act of quiet rebellion, this deliberate witnessing. In that breath, he found not freedom, but a dissolution of need. The lines between man and mountain wavered, softened by the sheer scale of indifference. If he stayed long enough, perhaps he too would become part of this tableau—his form dissolving into lichen and shadow, his presence no more than a pause in the wilderness’s endless thought.
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To explore more of these captured moments and woven words, visit the artist and writer at their sanctuary of creation: www.coronaviking.com
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Strictly speaking doctrinal knowledge is independent of the individual. But its actualization is not independent of the human capacity to act as a vehicle for it. He who possesses truth must none the less merit it although it is a free gift. Truth is immutable in itself, but in us it lives, because we live.
If we want truth to live in us we must live in it.
Knowledge only saves us on condition that it enlists all that we are, only when it is a way and when it works and transforms and wounds our nature even as the plough wounds the soil.
To say this is to say that intelligence and metaphysical certainty alone do not save; of themselves they do not prevent titans from falling. This is what explains the psychological and other precautions with which every tradition surrounds the gift of the doctrine.
When metaphysical knowledge is effective it produces love and destroys presumption. It produces love, that is to say the spontaneous directing of the will towards God and the perception of "myself" - and of God - in one's neighbour. It destroys presumption, for knowledge does not allow a man to overestimate himself or to underestimate others. By reducing to ashes all that is not God it orders all things.
All St. Paul says of charity concerns effective knowledge, for the latter is love, and he opposes it to theory inasmuch as theory is human concept. The Apostle desires that truth should be contemplated with our whole being and he calls this totality of contemplation "love".
Metaphysical knowledge is sacred. It is the right of sacred things to require of man all that he is.
Intelligence, since it distinguishes, perceives, as one might put
it, proportions. The spiritual man integrates these proportions into his will, into his soul and into his life.
All defects are defects of proportion; they are errors that are lived. To be spiritual means not denying at any point with one's "being" what one affirms with one's knowledge, that is, what one accepts with the intelligence.
Truth lived: incorruptibility and generosity. Since ignorance is all that we are and not merely our thinking, knowledge will also be all that we are to the extent to which our existential modalities are by their nature able to participate in truth.
Human nature contains dark elements which no intellectual
certainty could, ipso facto, eliminate...
Pure intellectuality is as serene as a summer sky - serene with a serenity that is at once infinitely incorruptible and infinitely generous.
Intellectualism which "dries up the heart" has no connection
with intellectuality.
The incorruptibility - or inviolability - of truth is bound up neither with contempt nor with avarice.
What is man's certainty? On the level of ideas it may be perfect, but on the level of life it but rarely pierces through illusion.
Everything is ephemeral and every man must die. No man is
ignorant of this and no one knows it.
Man does not always accept truth because he understands it; often he believes he understands it because he is anxious to accept it.
People often discuss truths whereas they should limit themselves to discussing tastes and tendencies ...
Acuteness of intelligence is only a blessing when it is compensated by greatness and sweetness of the soul. It should not appear as a rupture of the equilibrium or as an excess which splits man in two. A gift of nature requires complementary qualities which allow of its harmonious manifestation; otherwise there is a risk of the lights becoming mingled with darkness.
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Frithjof Schuon: Spiritual Perspectives and Human Facts
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Quoted in: The Essential Frithjof Schuon (edited by Seyyed Hossein Nasr)
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Image: The Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins - William Blake
It's an immutable law, "When I'm on Crinkle Crags there shall be almost zero visibility and a gale blowing".
The official state bird of Florida is the mockingbird. Northern Mockingbirds have extraordinary vocal abilities. They can sing up to 200 songs, including the songs of other birds, insect and amphibian sounds, even an occasional mechanical noise. The northern mockingbird is also the state bird of Texas, Arkansas, Tennessee and Mississippi.
Mockingbirds are a group of New World passerine birds from the Mimidae family. They are best known for the habit of some species mimicking the songs of other birds and the sounds of insects and amphibians, often loudly and in rapid succession. There are about 17 species in three genera. These do not appear to form a monophyletic lineage: Mimus and Nesomimus are quite closely related; their closest living relatives appear to be some thrashers, such as the Sage Thrasher. Melanotis is more distinct; it seems to represent a very ancient basal lineage of Mimidae.
When the survey voyage of HMS Beagle visited the Galápagos Islands in September to October 1835, the naturalist Charles Darwin noticed that the mockingbirds Mimus thenca differed from island to island, and were closely allied in appearance to mockingbirds on the South American mainland. Nearly a year later when writing up his notes on the return voyage he speculated that this, together with what he had been told about Galápagos tortoises, could undermine the doctrine of stability of species. This was his first recorded expression of his doubts about species being immutable which led to him being convinced about the transmutation of species and hence evolution.
Northern Mockingbird, Mimus polyglottos
Biscayne Park FL
I visited the famous cemetery of Colleville-sur-mer a long time ago. When I came back last spring, as expected, nothing has changed. The place is still like it used to be, the sad celebration of sacrifice for freedom. But not everything is so immutable. Our time is certainly different from what it was, just a few years ago. New threats, new imbalances, new anger. It is good to remember what happened and the courage of so many young men to let us live in a free country. All these dead soldiers are the sentinels of our memory. I like to believe they will help us to not forget it can happen again.
The glacier unfurled like a great, white expanse of forgotten time, its contours soft yet relentless, shimmering under the high New Zealand sun. A solitary figure moved across its surface, dwarfed by the immensity of the Southern Alps, their presence barely more significant than a breath exhaled into the void. Above, the sky arched in an almost blinding clarity, cobalt bruised with faint wisps of cloud that curled and dispersed like half-formed thoughts.
Poseidon Peak loomed behind the camera’s view, unseen but felt—a pull at the edges of perception, a monolith of raw presence waiting beyond the wanderer's slow progress. Around the ice, ancient ridges clawed upward, their surfaces raw and fractured, their grey-black faces streaked with veins of stubborn snow and the occasional gleam of exposed ice, blue as trapped lightning. At their feet, pools of glacial meltwater gathered like forgotten tears, impossibly bright, as if the earth itself had summoned the color to defy the starkness of its surroundings.
The snow, rippled by winds that spoke in cryptic tongues, seemed alive in its stillness. Each step of the wanderer left a mark, a fleeting impression in a world that would erase it in moments. The air was sharp and unyielding, laden with a silence that felt both oppressive and sacred, the kind of silence that compels you to listen for things not meant to be heard.
This place was no sanctuary, no shelter for fragile human thoughts. The peaks did not stand guard; they did not care to. Their forms rose in jagged defiance of time, not as sentinels but as monuments to a world that existed long before words, before people, before the idea of anything smaller than the universe itself. Their power was neither welcoming nor hostile—it simply was, vast and undeniable, like the weight of eternity pressing down on the present moment.
Yet in this austere and unyielding place, beauty unfolded with startling intimacy. The way the light slipped between the edges of fractured rock and dusted the icy surface with an almost imperceptible shimmer. The particular shade of the snow—both blindingly white and faintly blue—hinted at secrets locked within its cold depths. The pools, tucked among the boulders, seemed otherworldly in their perfection, their turquoise glow as vivid and surreal as a dream remembered at dawn.
Perhaps the wanderer moved not toward Poseidon Peak but into the heart of something less tangible—a confrontation with the limits of the self. Here, every step was a conversation with the earth, every breath a measure of one’s place in a world both infinite and indifferent. The mountains did not answer. They only existed, immutable and vast, their silence louder than any reply.
***
If this image speaks to you—if the solitude of the glacier, the silent wisdom of the mountains, and the delicate beauty of this untamed place stir something deep within—know that this is but one glimpse of a much larger journey. Through my lens and words, I seek to share the raw, unfiltered essence of wild places like this, where the boundaries between the external and the internal dissolve. You are invited to visit my website - www.coronaviking.com, where more stories, images, and reflections from this and other remote corners of the world await. Explore the profound connection between nature, art, and the human spirit...
Timewatchers - The Monks of Kairos by Daniel Arrhakis (2022)
With the music : Void Stasis - Clockwork by Cryo Chamber
An ancient world of watchmakers and steam engine engineers lost in a temporal dimension that repeats itself in infinite cycles as if it were a temporal refraction. Cities populated by steam engines that terraform new worlds as they expand.
Governed by powerful scientific academies with conservative theories that defend the immutability of social and political systems.
An ancient mystical order " The Monks Of Kairos" explore potential time or eternal time, managing through their sacred arts to open portals in precise moments that allow travel between worlds.
This ability allowed them to see other realities and cultures, which over time led them to question the reigning political system and social immutability itself.
Over time they became a clandestine order, as their ideas were considered subversive. Outlaws for some, respected and admired heroes for others!
A Creative Steampunk Mystic Fantasy composition using NightCafe Studio's Online Artificial Intelligence Art Generator, stock images and images of mine.
creator.nightcafe.studio/creation/dX3STJsoFT9AzOCxETkb
Orta San Giulio (Novara, Italy) is one of that places you can't forget.... a place where beauty, nature and the "order of things" is immutable and amazing.
This is Motta square
Strangely, this shot is not HDR! :)
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THE PROMISES OF GOD
"For all of God's promises have been fulfilled in him." 2 Cor. 1:20
God has made a Will, or Testament, in behalf of His people! It is signed and sealed. It cannot be altered- nothing can divest us of our inheritance. The bequest is His own "exceeding great and precious promises." What a heritage! All that the sinner requires- all that the sinner's God can give. In this testamentary deed there are no contingencies- no peradventures. The testator commences it with the sure guarantee for its every jot and tittle being fulfilled, "Verily, verily, I say unto you!" He endorses every promise, and every page, with a "Yes, and Amen." "God, willing more abundantly to show to the heirs of promise the immutability of His counsel, confirmed it by an oath." But, who provided such a rich Promise Treasury? What is the source, where is the fountain-head, from which these streams of mercy flow to the Church? "In HIM." Believer! from Jesus every promise is derived- in Jesus every promise centers. Pardon, peace, adoption, consolation, eternal life- all "in Him." In Him you are "chosen," "called," "justified," "sanctified," and "glorified." You have in possession all the blessings of present grace; you have in reserve all the happiness of coming glory. And "He is faithful that promised."
Your friend may deceive you- the world has deceived you- He never will! Myriads in glory, are there to tell how not one thing has failed of all that the Lord their God has spoken. Rely on this faithfulness. He gave His Son for you. After the greater blessing, surely, for subordinate ones, you may trust Him. And where do these promises beam most brightly? Like the stars, it is in the night! In the midnight of trial- when the sun of earthly prosperity has set- when deep is calling to deep, and wave to wave; when tempted, bereaved, beaten down with "a great fight of afflictions," the spiritual firmament with its galaxy of Promises is brightest and clearest!
"Oh! who could bear life's stormy doom,
Did not Your Word of Love
Come brightly bearing through the gloom
A palm branch from above?
Then sorrow touched by You grows bright,
With more than rapture's ray;
As darkness shows us worlds of light
We never saw by day!"
But do not be deceived; the night of sorrow cannot 'in itself' give you the comfort of the Divine Promises. It may be night, and yet the stars invisible. It is only "in Him" these promises can be discerned in their luster. Reader! if you are "out of Christ," these stars of Gospel promise shine in vain to you; they have, to the unspiritual eye, no beauty or brightness. In the midnight battle of Barak, "the stars in their course fought against Sisera." They shone on Israel, but denied their light to the enemies of God. The guiding pillar, so lustrous to the chosen people, was a column of portentous gloom to Pharaoh's host. But "in Him," as "heirs of God," you are inheritors of "all the promises." All the promises! Oh! with such a pillow whereon to rest your aching head, you may well resume your nightly song– "I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." Psalm 4:8 - GRACEGEMS.ORG
This city is eternal as its traffic is eternal, a constant and immutable presence in the life of every citizen.
At a fleeting glance, all this may seem beautiful, but for those who live there it is a condemnation that goes beyond the great beauty.
Questa città è eterna come è eterno il suo traffico, costante ed immutabile presenza nella vita di ogni cittadino.
Ad uno sguardo sfuggente, tutto questo può sembrare bello, ma per chi ci vive è una condanna che va oltre la grande bellezza.
Angkor Wat in the distance framed between two Buddhist monks. Growing up I spent a few years in a Christian school and was taught that the Bible was immutable and that God’s word was passed down through the eons exactly as it says in the holy book. Reality, of course, is a much different thing and all it takes is a cursory study of history and archaeology for us to understand how complicated and dynamic the world really is, and how religion, like all things in life, is constantly changing and evolving. Angkor Wat is a prime example. It originally started as a Hindu temple when it was built in the 12th century, but over time as Buddhism became more dominant in the region, Angkor Wat was gradually transformed into a Buddhist temple. I met some Indian tourists at Angkor Wat, and they remarked to me how much of the Hindu roots they can see in the temple’s architecture and design. Today Angkor Wat is considered a sacred site by Buddhist monks, and when you visit the temple you will almost certainly run into a few monks there making their pilgrimage, or conducting their prayers, rituals, and ceremonies.
Angels And Demons In Ion Mystical World by Daniel Arrhakis (2021)
With the music : Monasterium Imperi - Dark Litanies of Terra (Full Album)
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Angels And Demons In Ion Mystical World - First Postulate - About Demons - Introduction
There are two conceptions in the Mystical World of Ion about what we commonly refer to as Demons. The "Guardians of Chaos" and the "Shapeless Shadows" or simply "The Shadows" .
The former are primordial entities that were at the origin of the Universe itself and of its evolution until today.
The latter are insidious and older, they existed even before the creation of the Light itself.
If the former allow the Universe to evolve through cycles of creation, destruction and rebirth, the latter hate the light and the evolution of knowledge, they do everything so that darkness dominates over everything so that time does not exist nor the awareness of the existence of life itself in a timeless space and without material existence.
However, even the existence of so-called darkness or shadows, depends on the battle between Light and Darkness, because without the Light the darkness itself plunged into its non-existence as such, due to the absence of time, matter or universal consciousness.
Likewise, light needs darkness to reach its fullness as a lighthouse that opens new horizons, indicates paths and gives hope to those who do not see! In its primary purpose, light is the source of knowledge that allows the realization of matter, space and time.
So as much as we want, one does not exist without the other and it is in the balance of forces that they can coexist infinitely.
In this Conception everything changes and becomes a dynamic balance that is always imperfect and timeless, so everything that exists depends on it.
But who they are or how we can describe them ?
The "Guardians of Chaos" often take the elementary state, they manifest themselves through their physical, chemical and action-reaction properties whose intensity depends on time, mass and gravity. Although they do not have a human or bestial form, throughout the ages, they have been represented by Gods or Mighty Beings but they can be transcribed by mathematical formulas or simple and complex geometries.
They are recognizable for their physical manifestations in Nature or in the Universe, but also for their creative and transformative material and spiritual manifestations. Its fundamental purpose is Evolution through cycles of destruction and creation, which also drives knowledge, the development of ideas and the evolution of societies themselves. Without Chaos, the immutable organization of systems was dictatorially immortalized in time without changes but also without evolving and without allowing the existence of new creations, ideas or new beings.
The snake in the garden of Eden is the transfiguration of Chaos that influences human beings but also allows them to discover the taste of knowledge, the forbidden fruit of their tree! !
As for "Shapeless Shadows" , they are insidious, most of the time acting silently, deceiving and spreading doubt or lies, distrust or fear, hatred and intolerance. If in most of their manifestations they are spiritual, environmental or social conditions can favor their action through suggestion and are more difficult to combat.
In the Mystical World of Ion they have no form, they are not visible to our eyes but they can be felt especially in moments of concentration or by people with more developed senses.
In any case, the knowledge about ourselves and the recognition of our virtues but also of our imperfections can be the foundation for building a stronger spirit that better resist to temptations.
Spirit is Substance, matter is accident: that is to say that matter is but a contingent and transitory modality of the radiation of the Spirit which projects the worlds and the cycles while remaining transcendent and immutable.
This radiation produces the polarisation into subject and object: matter is the final point of the descent of the objective pole, sensorial consciousness being the corresponding subjective phenomenon.
For the senses, the object is matter, or let us say the perceptible physical domain; for the Intellect, objective reality is the Spirit in all its forms. It is by it that we exist, and that we know; were it not immanent in physical substances these could not exist for one instant.
And in this Spirit precisely the subject-object opposition is resolved; it is resolved in the Unity which is at once exclusive and inclusive, transcendent and immanent. The alpha as well as the omega, while transcending us infinitely, reside in the depths of our heart.
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Summertime never changes at my place.
Golden wheat fields,
a blinding sunlight.
You can feel the heat seeping into your bones,
cicadas' chirp in the background.
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I'm leaving on Sunday morning. My destination? Gallipoli, Apulia.
See you at the beginning of Septemper! :D
La marée est haute, le soleil est sur le déclin. Les bateaux, l'un après l'autre rentrent au port. Le rituel semble immuable. Venant du nord, ils s'enroulent à peine autour du phare et se laissent porter jusqu'à la digue opposée. Baisser les gaz à l'entrée du port. Emporté par son élan, le nez du bateau s'enfonce doucement dans l'eau. Soulevé par cette vague, il semble soudain comme en apesanteur. Oubliés le poids du navire, des machines. Se peut-il qu'il se transforme finalement en albatros ? Bien trop vite, le capitaine nous ramène à la raison. Le bateau reprend son rythme et s'enfonce doucement dans les profondeurs du port de Fécamp.
A son bord les hommes ont hâte de rentrer. La journée a été froide. De ce froid pressant qui s'insinue sous les cirés. De ce froid qui n'autorise pas le moindre confort, qui ne vous lâche plus une fois qu'il vous a pris, qui, malgré les efforts, ne vous laisse pas de doute. Il aura toujours raison.
Aujourd'hui, la mer était calme.
--- English translation with the help of deepl.com ---
The tide is high, the sun is on the decline. The ships, one after the other, return to the harbor. The ritual seems immutable. Coming from the north, they barely wrap themselves around the lighthouse and let themselves be carried to the opposite dike. Lower the throttle at the entrance to the harbor. Carried away by its momentum, the boat's nose gently sinks into the water. Raised by this wave, it suddenly seems like weightlessness. Forget the weight of the ship, the machines. Can it be that she finally transforms herself into an albatross? Far too quickly, the captain brings us back to reason. The boat resumed its rhythm and slowly sinks into the depths of the port of Fécamp.
On board, the men are eager to return. It's been a cold day. From this pressing cold that creeps in under the oilskins. This cold weather that does not allow the slightest comfort, that does not let you go once it has taken you, that, despite all the efforts, does not leave you in any doubt. It will always win.
Today, the sea was calm.
If there’s one thing we know beyond any doubt, it’s that all of life is an evolutionary process. Everything, from the smallest particle in existence to the universe as a whole is in the process of evolution. Immutability is the only truth. Expansion is the point. The only question is whether or ...
Les Marches Folkloriques de l'Entre-Sambre-et-Meuse trouvent leurs origines dans les processions de croix banales du moyen-âge. Celles-ci avaient lieu dans l'octave de la Pentecôte et étaient destinées à rendre hommage et à permettre de verser l'obole à l'abbaye suzeraine voisine dont dépendait le clergé.
L'escorte militaire qui les accompagnait avait pour but d'en rehausser l'éclat mais aussi de préserver les pèlerins contre les bandes de malfrats qui rôdaient à cette époque dans nos contrées. Ces compagnies spéciales d'archers et arbalétriers que l'on appelait "serments" furent les ancêtres des marcheurs.
C'est dans le courant du XVIII siècle qu'une crise importante frappa nos Marches car de plus en plus ces cérémonies devenaient un prétexte pour s'amuser et tourner le religieux en dérision, ce qui ne plut pas au clergé qui interdit ces manifestations.
Les coutumes reprendront en 1802 après le concordat signé entre Napoléon Ier et le Pape Pie VII. C'est à ce moment que les Marches prirent un nouvel essor et devinrent des escortes militaires.
En ce qui concerne les costumes adoptés dans nos manifestations aujourd'hui, ils sont du premier et du second empire. A ce sujet, il est certain que l'on a d'abord marché en premier empire car de nombreuses défroques de l'armée de Napoléon étaient disponibles dans nos régions. Ces uniformes se dégradant, nos Marcheurs ont adoptés les costumes militaires de l'époque qui a immédiatement suivi, c'est-à-dire les uniformes que l'on appelle du second empire.
Bien que l’aspect religieux ne semble pas prépondérant, il s’agit quand même d’une procession religieuse avec sortie de la châsse et des saints patrons, bénédictions, messe, …
L’un des moments les plus forts de la Saint Hubert, c’est le fameux bataillon carré. Un moment solennel, plein de tradition et avec un déroulement codifié et immuable. Il commence par une revue des troupes, suivie de décharges et de feux roulants.
The Folk Marches of Entre-Sambre-et-Meuse find their origins in the banal cross processions of the Middle Ages. These took place in the octave of Pentecost and were intended to pay homage and allow the payment of the mite to the neighboring suzerain abbey on which the clergy depended.
The military escort which accompanied them was intended to enhance its splendor but also to protect the pilgrims against the gangs of thugs who were roaming our region at that time. These special companies of archers and crossbowmen called "oaths" were the ancestors of the walkers.
It was during the 18th century that a major crisis struck our Marches because more and more these ceremonies became a pretext for having fun and making fun of religion, which did not please the clergy who banned these demonstrations.
Customs resumed in 1802 after the concordat signed between Napoleon I and Pope Pius VII. It was at this time that the Marches took on new development and became military escorts.
Regarding the costumes adopted in our demonstrations today, they are from the first and second empire. On this subject, it is certain that we first marched in the first empire because many cast-offs from Napoleon's army were available in our regions. As these uniforms deteriorated, our Walkers adopted the military costumes of the era which immediately followed, that is to say the uniforms we call the Second Empire.
Although the religious aspect does not seem predominant, it is still a religious procession with the release of the reliquary and patron saints, blessings, mass, etc.
One of the strongest moments of Saint Hubert’s Day is the famous square battalion. A solemn moment, full of tradition and with a codified and immutable sequence. It begins with a review of the troops, followed by discharges and rolling fire.
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/videos/God-s-sovereignty-over-al...
Introduction
Watch the full documentary at: Praise and Worship Music "The One Who Holds Sovereignty Over Everything" (Christian Musical Documentary)
Christian Movie Segment - God Holds Sovereignty Over All Things in the Universe (Gospel Music)
Mankind has been seeking these answers for several thousand years: How can the celestial bodies in the universe proceed in such perfect order? Why do all living things always move in cycles following immutable rules? Why are people born, and then why do we die? Who has really determined all of these rules and laws? Who really does rule over the universe and all things? This wonderful segment from the Christian movie, The One Who Holds Sovereignty Over Everything, will guide you to get to the root of these questions and unveil all these mysteries.
Terms of Use： en.godfootsteps.org/disclaimer.html
L’arbre de l’exili
Arbre del meu exili, quan podré dir-te adéu?
T’he vist negre a l’hivern guarnit de flocs de neu,
gràcia fràgil damunt les branques despullades
que s’allarguen damunt de les fosques teulades
on el vent escabella i esfilagarsa el fum
en tant que el gris filtra la macilenta llum.
Del meu curt horitzó ets la fita immutable
i em fas sentir més sol, més trist, més miserable.
Fugen les campanades del campanar veï
com oscellots que escapen de les mans del destí;
cada una obre al flanc del dia una ferida
i s’emporta com presa un boci de la vida,
mentre la teva soca, més fosca que la nit
alça les branques nues per palpar l’infinit.
[….]
---------------------------------------------
Baum meines Exils, wann werde ich dir >Lebe wohl< sagen
können?
Schwarz sah ich dich im Winter, von Schneeflocken bedeckt,
zerbrechliche Grazie über den entlaubten Zweigen,
auf die dunklen Dächer gestreckt,
wo der Wind den Rauch zerstreut, zerbläst,
so wie der graue Himmel das fahle Licht durchsiebt.
Von meinem kleinen Horizont bist du der starre Grenzstein,
lässt einsamer, trauriger und elender mich fühlen.
So fliehen, die Schläge des nahen Glockenturms,
wie Nachtvögel, die der Hand des Schicksals entkommen;
Wunden öffnen sie in der Flanke des Tags,
nehmen, als Beute, ein Stück des Lebens sich,
indessen dein Stamm, finstrer als die Nacht,
die nackten Zweige erhebt, zu tasten die Unendlichkeit.
[…]
Ambrosi Carrion (1942/1946)
'It is a necessary element in a universe that while it constantly supports us is nevertheless attacking and threatening us without a moments respite.'
-R.H.Blyth
'...myth is one of man's greatest and most significant achievements, giving him the security and inner strength to not be crushed by the monstrousness of the universe.'
-Carl Jung
I am a pretender hunkered down in a maelstrom behind a facade of technical gear. Outside: A shrieking chorale of wild bristlecones on a Serengeti of stone. A sonic and percussive primordial wind, the lion does not sleep.
The bristlecone voices are of epic confidence and endurance. Taunting chorus after chorus of millennial defiance; of standing their ground. Of having withstood the worst that any two or three or more millennia had to offer.
Boughs barely rippling; figurative fuzz on a tennis ball. Smaller trees soulful, shrill. Larger trees rumbling like raging water pouring over a precipice. Theirs is the most elemental of sounds; that of the flowing ethereal deformed by immutable matter.
There is nothing extraneous about the shape of an ancient bristlecone. Every pliant, probing, shapeshifting growth tip has been aerodynamically pruned and tuned through howling millennia to match the precise location and microclimate of each tree. Branches do not break off. Finding a branch lying on the ground after even the fiercest of storms would be akin to finding the wingtip of a Concorde.
Inside, swaddled in bird feathers, I watch an Oort cloud of sliding snowflakes accumulate on the embossed logo of the tent’s leeward panel. The skittering flakes build and shift, forming faces and figures and mountains that slide away only to form again and again. Nature speaks (if at all) in relentless metaphor.
Hours later: Ice crystal stars and a serene slumbering face immersed in cumulus above the logo peaks as the wind begins to fade with oncoming night...And I remember again why I pretend.
Эфемерные облака и неподвижные камни.
Было утро , но палящий степной зной стремительно набирал силу. Все замерло в ожидании ливня . Все кроме вездесущих ящериц и меня , устало бредущего к своей палатке. На земле штиль , а над головой
кордебалет быстро движущихся облаков, напоминающий пляски половцев .
Проходя мимо очередной группы валунов моя камера щелкала в такт хаотичным мыслям . В этот
момент понял глубокую связь между эфемерными облаками и неподвижными валунами. Оба созданы силами времени и природы, воплощая постоянно меняющуюся суть существования. Облака, отражают быстротечность жизни, отбрасывая тени, которые изменяются в такт капризам ветра и времени . И наоборот, стойкие валуны символизируют устойчивость перед лицом невзгод, отражая неизменную сущность каждого из нас.
В это знойное утро сделал для себя открытие - одно из проявлений красоты заключается в тонком балансе между движением и неизменностью.
Возможно такие рассуждения возникают после перегрева под палящим степным солнцем , а может виновата просто ФОТОГРАФИЯ.
А. Суховский
Украина. Николаевская область. с Актово.
Ephemeral clouds and motionless stones.
It was morning, but the scorching heat of the steppe was rapidly gaining strength. Everything froze in anticipation of the rain. Everyone except the ubiquitous lizards and me, wearily wandering towards my tent. There is calm on the ground, but overhead
a corps de ballet of rapidly moving clouds, reminiscent of the Polovtsian dances.
Passing by another group of boulders, my camera clicked in time with my chaotic thoughts. In that
moment I realized the deep connection between ephemeral clouds and motionless boulders. Both are created by the forces of time and nature, embodying the ever-changing essence of existence. Clouds reflect the transience of life, casting shadows that change in time with the vagaries of the wind and time. Conversely, resilient boulders symbolize resilience in the face of adversity, reflecting the unchanging essence of each of us.
On this sultry morning, make a discovery for yourself - one of the manifestations of beauty lies in the delicate balance between movement and immutability.
Perhaps such reasoning arises after overheating under the scorching steppe sun, or maybe the PHOTOGRAPHY is simply to blame.
A. Sukhovsky
Ukraine. Mykolayiv region. v Aktovo
[...] Damit sind nur zwei Schlussfolgerungen möglich. Entweder, der Riss ist ein rein räumliches Phänomen, ihm fehlt also die Zeit-Dimension. Oder man muss ihn unabhängig von unserem Raum-Zeit-Gefüge betrachten. Beide Fälle lassen sich mit der M6 zur Verfügung stehenden Physik weder berechnen noch simulieren. Aber es gibt zumindest ein Experiment, mit dem er herausfinden kann, um welche der beiden Alternativen es sich handelt. Im ersten Fall passiert nichts, im zweiten kann alles Mögliche passieren, außer dass nichts passiert. Oder hat er dabei irgendeinen Denkfehler begangen? Etwas Unveränderliches ohne Zeitdimension kann auch ihn nicht verändern, ganz egal, was er tut. Fall eins scheint klar zu sein. Aber der zweite Fall? Was geschieht, wenn er sich außerhalb von Raum und Zeit begibt? Verschwindet er aus diesem Universum? Das hätte schreckliche Konsequenzen, denn es würde Ursache und Wirkung durcheinanderbringen. Oder bleibt eine Kopie von ihm zurück, um die Geschichte nicht durcheinanderzubringen? Das wäre besonderes Pech. Dann würde er glauben, dass nichts passiert ist, also Fall eins eingetreten ist, aber in Wirklichkeit handelte es sich doch um den zweiten Fall. Das ist doch zum Haareraufen! Und welcher seiner Programmierer hat ihm bitte diese Wendung beigebracht! M6 spürt, dass er in die gefährlichen Gefilde der Quanten-Unsicherheiten abzurutschen droht. Er will, in den Begriffen der Quantenphysik, ein Experiment durchführen, dessen Ausgang davon abhängt, ob es einen neutralen Beobachter gibt. Ein Beobachter steht ihm aber nicht zur Verfügung. Jedenfalls noch nicht [...]
(Brandon Q. Morris, "Der Riss" - {Sonnensystem 3})
***
[...] Only two conclusions can be drawn from this. Either, the rift is a purely spatial phenomenon, so it lacks the time dimension. Or you have to look at it independently of our space-time structure. Both cases can neither be calculated nor simulated with the physics available to M6. But there is at least one experiment that he can use to find out which of the two alternatives it is. In the first case nothing happens, in the second anything can happen except nothing happens. Or did he make some mistake in reasoning? Something immutable without a dimension of time cannot change him either, no matter what he does. Case one seems clear. But the second case? What happens when he goes outside of space and time? Does he disappear from this universe? This would have dire consequences, for it would confuse cause and effect. Or does a copy of him stay behind so as not to mess up the story? That would be particularly bad luck. Then he would think that nothing had happened, that case one had occurred, but in fact it was the second case. That's hair-raising! And which of his programmers please taught him this turn! M6 senses he is slipping into the dangerous realms of quantum uncertainty. He wants, in terms of quantum physics, to conduct an experiment whose outcome depends on whether there is a neutral observer. However, an observer is not available to him. At least not yet [...]
(Brandon Q. Morris, "The Rift" {Solar System 3})
In speaking about ancient or traditional peoples it is important not to confuse healthy and integral civilizations with the great paganisms—for the term is justified here—of the Mediterranean and the Near East, of which Pharaoh and Nebuchadnezzar have become the classic incarnations and conventional images. What strikes one first in these “petrified” traditions of the Biblical world is a cult of the massive and gigantic, as well as a cosmolatry often accompanied by bloody or orgiastic rites, not forgetting an excessive development of magic and the arts of divination; in civilizations of this kind the supernatural is replaced by the magical, and the here-below is divinized while nothing is offered for the hereafter—at least in the exoterism, which in fact overwhelms everything else; a sort of marmoreal divinization of the human is combined with a passionate
humanization of the divine; potentates are demigods, and the gods preside over all the passions.
A question that might arise here is the following: why did these old religions deviate into paganism and then become extinct, whereas a similar destiny seems to be excluded in the case of the great traditions that are alive today in both the West and the East?
The answer is that traditions having a prehistoric origin are, symbolically speaking, made for “space” and not for “time”; that is, they saw the light in a primordial epoch when time was still but a rhythm in a spatial and static beatitude and when space or simultaneity still predominated over the experience of duration and change; historical traditions on the contrary must take the experience of “time” into account and must foresee instability and decadence, since they were born at periods when time had become like a fast-flowing and ever more devouring river and when the spiritual outlook had to be centered on the end of the world.
The position of Hinduism is intermediate in the sense that it has a capacity, exceptional in a tradition of the primordial type, for rejuvenation and adaptation; it is thus at once prehistoric and historic and realizes in its own way the miracle of a synthesis between the gods of Egypt and the God of Israel.
But to return to the Babylonians: the stonelike character of this type of civilization cannot be explained solely by a tendency to excess; it is also explained by a sense of the immutable, as if one had seen primordial beatitude beginning to vanish and had therefore wished to build a fortress to stand against time, or as if one had sought to transform the whole tradition into a fortress, with the result that the spirit was stifled instead of being protected; seen from this angle the marmoreal and inhuman side of these paganisms looks like a titanic reaction of space against time. In this perspective the implacability of the stars is paradoxically combined with the passion of bodies; the stellar vault is always present, divine and crushing, whereas an overflowing life serves as a terrestrial divinity.
From another point of view, many of the characteristics of the civilizations of antiquity are explained by the fact that in the beginning the celestial Law was of an adamantine hardness while at the same time life still retained something of the celestial; Babylon lived falsely on this sort of recollection, and yet at the very heart of the cruelest paganisms there were mitigations that can be accounted for by changes in the cyclical atmosphere. The celestial Law becomes less demanding as we approach the end of our cycle; Clemency increases as man becomes weaker. Christ’s acquittal of the adulterous woman has this significance—apart from other equally possible meanings—as does the intervention of the angel in the sacrifice of Abraham.
---
Frithjof Schuon: Light on The Ancient Worlds
As I waited on the beach for the Sun to set (before taking this photograph) I was entertained for a few minutes by a delightful shore bird. It ran up and down the surf line, almost frantically, in search of hidden prey buried in the sand. What stuck me is how the bird was continuously (and voluntarily) on the edge of catastrophe: a moment's hesitation, and it could be engulfed by the pounding waves.
And it got me thinking about our own lives, too. In reality, don't we all conduct our lives on the edge of catastrophe? There is a seemingly fine line that separates sickness from health, poverty from abundance, warfare from peace, hate from love. Like the immutable surge of the ocean, we often encounter forces and circumstances which are beyond our control. The key, then, to living a fulfilling and productive life on the edge, is learning to deal with whatever comes our way. This idea is perfectly encapsulated in the Serenity Prayer:
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference."
*************************
This photo is worth VIEWING IN LARGE, as there is some fascinating detail in the bird's feathers.
*************************
Featured in Explore 2009.12.31 #83
une bonne soirée , or a beautiful day ♥
best in black ! merci =))<3
triskel... earth fire water .. movement of all things in the universe, it 's the principle of all immutable, where everything comes from and where everything returns .. as Druidic symbol, representing three deities ...
Taken from Felines, close to Parisot in the Tarn et Garonne, so not far from the Aveyron. This is the third panorama I have posted of the Pyrenees seen from a line measurement of around 200km. On this occasion I could just make out some of the foothills over towards the Basque region, so around 250km away, (but couldn't get the camera to see the image that I could make out between the branches of far away trees). My pictures are dataposted and show that the sight is neither spurious or, so rare. During the prehistoric epoch (which all of my Flickr reflects and shadows), such a sight will have been indubitable and concrete - something that you might walk to see when the conditions appeared to be good. How much mapping can be understood with such immutable markers? The mountain points might disappear from view for months at a time, but not from the memory of a mind keen to navigate. Each summit would have had an identity. Add the great rivers with their starts and ends, tributaries and confluences, and another view, just 20km away, of the mountains of the Auvergne (in turn 125km away), and this region may have had the natural maps to assure navigation. Families were large and most stayed to work their land, but for those who wanted to trade, to see, to meet or to project (troupadours), this was a natural geography of navigation and linguistic porosity. Moving north to the flat lands without long views may have seemed to be a bleak prospect.
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/videos/God-s-sovereignty-over-al...
Introduction
Watch the full documentary at: Praise and Worship Music "The One Who Holds Sovereignty Over Everything" (Christian Musical Documentary)
Christian Movie Segment - God Holds Sovereignty Over All Things in the Universe (Gospel Music)
Mankind has been seeking these answers for several thousand years: How can the celestial bodies in the universe proceed in such perfect order? Why do all living things always move in cycles following immutable rules? Why are people born, and then why do we die? Who has really determined all of these rules and laws? Who really does rule over the universe and all things? This wonderful segment from the Christian movie, The One Who Holds Sovereignty Over Everything, will guide you to get to the root of these questions and unveil all these mysteries.
Terms of Use： en.godfootsteps.org/disclaimer.html
hydrangea petals in autumn........
explanation-- this is a sub into slider sundays b/c the skull was too disquieting. maybe closer to halloween it would be ok but right now, for reasons i'd like not to discuss, it is just not right for a wider forum, so you get hydrangea petals instead.
ANSH scavenger6 "life is........"
"Lost in Chaos" | photo-project.
Canon EOS
Canon EF-S 17-85mm Is Usm
"Lost in Chaos" is a personal project, which has as its intent to capture images in a number of places in the silence of the time and lost in an atmosphere that makes the eyes look even more magical. Old buildings, industrial buildings, but also cultural and historical buildings belonging to other eras, now part of the history of a big city like Rome. So quiet and yet so immersed in the daily chaos that reigns, and features a large metropolis that create an incredible contrast in the observer. A study in evolution, that with imagination, wants to pay tribute to these places trying to restore to them a way to return to live, through the art of photography that everything makes immortal and immutable.
"Lost in Chaos" è un progetto personale, che si pone come intento quello di catturare in immagini una serie di luoghi immersi nel silenzio del tempo e perduti in un'atmosfera che ne rende ancor più magico l'aspetto agli occhi. Vecchi edifici, costruzioni industriali, ma anche edifici storici e culturali appartenuti ad altre epoche, ormai parte della storia di una grande città come Roma. Così silenziosi eppure così immersi nel caos quotidiano che regna e caratterizza una grande metropoli tale da crearne un incredibile contrasto in chi osserva. Una ricerca in evoluzione, che con immaginazione, vuol rendere omaggio a questi luoghi cercando di ridonare loro un modo per tornare a vivere, attraverso l'arte della fotografia che tutto rende immortale ed immutabile.
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Strictly speaking doctrinal knowledge is independent of the individual. But its actualization is not independent of the human capacity to act as a vehicle for it. He who possesses truth must none the less merit it although it is a free gift. Truth is immutable in itself, but in us it lives, because we live.
If we want truth to live in us we must live in it.
Knowledge only saves us on condition that it enlists all that we are, only when it is a way and when it works and transforms and wounds our nature even as the plough wounds the soil.
To say this is to say that intelligence and metaphysical certainty alone do not save; of themselves they do not prevent titans from falling. This is what explains the psychological and other precautions with which every tradition surrounds the gift of the doctrine.
When metaphysical knowledge is effective it produces love and destroys presumption. It produces love, that is to say the spontaneous directing of the will towards God and the perception of "myself" - and of God - in one's neighbour. It destroys presumption, for knowledge does not allow a man to overestimate himself or to underestimate others. By reducing to ashes all that is not God it orders all things.
All St. Paul says of charity concerns effective knowledge, for the latter is love, and he opposes it to theory inasmuch as theory is human concept. The Apostle desires that truth should be contemplated with our whole being and he calls this totality of contemplation "love".
Metaphysical knowledge is sacred. It is the right of sacred things to require of man all that he is.
Intelligence, since it distinguishes, perceives, as one might put
it, proportions. The spiritual man integrates these proportions into his will, into his soul and into his life.
All defects are defects of proportion; they are errors that are lived. To be spiritual means not denying at any point with one's "being" what one affirms with one's knowledge, that is, what one accepts with the intelligence.
Truth lived: incorruptibility and generosity. Since ignorance is all that we are and not merely our thinking, knowledge will also be all that we are to the extent to which our existential modalities are by their nature able to participate in truth.
Human nature contains dark elements which no intellectual
certainty could, ipso facto, eliminate...
Pure intellectuality is as serene as a summer sky - serene with a serenity that is at once infinitely incorruptible and infinitely generous.
Intellectualism which "dries up the heart" has no connection
with intellectuality.
The incorruptibility - or inviolability - of truth is bound up neither with contempt nor with avarice.
What is man's certainty? On the level of ideas it may be perfect, but on the level of life it but rarely pierces through illusion.
Everything is ephemeral and every man must die. No man is
ignorant of this and no one knows it.
Man may have an interest that is quite illusory in accepting the
most transcendent ideas and will readily believe himself to be superior to some other who, not having this interest - perhaps because he is too intelligent or too noble to have it - is sincere enough not to accept them, though he may all the same be more able to understand them than the other who accepts them.
Man does not always accept truth because he understands it; often he believes he understands it because he is anxious to accept it.
People often discuss truths whereas they should limit themselves to discussing tastes and tendencies ...
Acuteness of intelligence is only a blessing when it is compensated by greatness and sweetness of the soul. It should not appear as a rupture of the equilibrium or as an excess which splits man in two. A gift of nature requires complementary qualities which allow of its harmonious manifestation; otherwise there is a risk of the lights becoming mingled with darkness.
Les Marches Folkloriques de l'Entre-Sambre-et-Meuse trouvent leurs origines dans les processions de croix banales du moyen-âge. Celles-ci avaient lieu dans l'octave de la Pentecôte et étaient destinées à rendre hommage et à permettre de verser l'obole à l'abbaye suzeraine voisine dont dépendait le clergé.
L'escorte militaire qui les accompagnait avait pour but d'en rehausser l'éclat mais aussi de préserver les pèlerins contre les bandes de malfrats qui rôdaient à cette époque dans nos contrées. Ces compagnies spéciales d'archers et arbalétriers que l'on appelait "serments" furent les ancêtres des marcheurs.
C'est dans le courant du XVIII siècle qu'une crise importante frappa nos Marches car de plus en plus ces cérémonies devenaient un prétexte pour s'amuser et tourner le religieux en dérision, ce qui ne plut pas au clergé qui interdit ces manifestations.
Les coutumes reprendront en 1802 après le concordat signé entre Napoléon Ier et le Pape Pie VII. C'est à ce moment que les Marches prirent un nouvel essor et devinrent des escortes militaires.
En ce qui concerne les costumes adoptés dans nos manifestations aujourd'hui, ils sont du premier et du second empire. A ce sujet, il est certain que l'on a d'abord marché en premier empire car de nombreuses défroques de l'armée de Napoléon étaient disponibles dans nos régions. Ces uniformes se dégradant, nos Marcheurs ont adoptés les costumes militaires de l'époque qui a immédiatement suivi, c'est-à-dire les uniformes que l'on appelle du second empire.
Bien que l’aspect religieux ne semble pas prépondérant, il s’agit quand même d’une procession religieuse avec sortie de la châsse et des saints patrons, bénédictions, messe, …
L’un des moments les plus forts de la Saint Hubert, c’est le fameux bataillon carré. Un moment solennel, plein de tradition et avec un déroulement codifié et immuable. Il commence par une revue des troupes, suivie de décharges et de feux roulants.
The Folk Marches of Entre-Sambre-et-Meuse find their origins in the banal cross processions of the Middle Ages. These took place in the octave of Pentecost and were intended to pay homage and allow the payment of the mite to the neighboring suzerain abbey on which the clergy depended.
The military escort which accompanied them was intended to enhance its splendor but also to protect the pilgrims against the gangs of thugs who were roaming our region at that time. These special companies of archers and crossbowmen called "oaths" were the ancestors of the walkers.
It was during the 18th century that a major crisis struck our Marches because more and more these ceremonies became a pretext for having fun and making fun of religion, which did not please the clergy who banned these demonstrations.
Customs resumed in 1802 after the concordat signed between Napoleon I and Pope Pius VII. It was at this time that the Marches took on new development and became military escorts.
Regarding the costumes adopted in our demonstrations today, they are from the first and second empire. On this subject, it is certain that we first marched in the first empire because many cast-offs from Napoleon's army were available in our regions. As these uniforms deteriorated, our Walkers adopted the military costumes of the era which immediately followed, that is to say the uniforms we call the Second Empire.
Although the religious aspect does not seem predominant, it is still a religious procession with the release of the reliquary and patron saints, blessings, mass, etc.
One of the strongest moments of Saint Hubert’s Day is the famous square battalion. A solemn moment, full of tradition and with a codified and immutable sequence. It begins with a review of the troops, followed by discharges and rolling fire.