Toussaints Ceremony

almost every tomb wears chrysanthmums

I spent a number of hours, yesterday and again this morning, at St. Michel's cemetery here in the Bastide.  It's not a far walk and includes a nice hill, so the exercise is good.  It's also just a lovely spot.  

Ironwork on an artist family tomb

I love this custom of putting photos on the market

     

Today is Toussaints....All Saints Day.  It's a national holiday here and the custom is to go to the cemeteries, to the family plots and place chrysanthemums there.  People take brooms and give the tomb a good cleaning and spruce up for the holiday.  The cemetery cats are rather put out by all the disturbance.  

Long afternoon shadows

Yesterday's visit was as part of a guided tour of the notable tombs--the important people (i.e. men) interred here.  The guide told of their exploits and their heroics, both grand and intimate.  One guy was a banker, and although important, because the guide disapproved of his profession, the deceased rated no more than "He was a banker," a sniff and a "let's move along."  Funny.  

Tidying the family plot

Flags catch the morning breeze

Today I went there to observe the military ceremony that's held to commemorate those "mort pour la france."    I swear that I can do nothing in this town without being found out.  I was standing there, minding my own business, trying to be inconspicuous and respectful, when who walks up to me but Denise, the president of the Protestant congregation.  Obviously neither of use was in church, but she was at the ceremony as the Protestant delegate.  So, I got taken under her wing, and then introduced to the people in charge.  The man invited me to join their association--dedicated to making sure that these souls are never forgotten.  

Final check before taking their places

I did not take photos of the ceremony.  I wanted to be a part of it, not a recorder of it.  I saw the photographer from La Depeche, so there will be photos in the paper tomorrow.  The military was there, since we were in the military section of the cemetery.  Some trumpeters sounded a fanfare, a children's choir placed lit votive candles at the feet of the statue of the angel with a sword, various city and departmental and regional dignitaries placed flowers. One man made a mercifully short speech.  An honor guard and old soldiers bearing flags watched over all the proceedings.  It was simultaneously amateurish and moving.  It concluded with a truncated refrain of La Marseillaise.  

On the way out, I managed to catch up with the mayor of Carcassonne, who was there alone, with no retinue.  Pushy American that I am, I introduced myself and we had a nice little chat.  I told him how much I loved his city and that I thought he was accomplishing good things.  He replied that he was trying and complimented me on my French.  I somehow know he will remember me. 

La Cite keeps watch in the autumn afternoon sun

So, did all the souls come back and walk amongst us today?  I don't know.  Maybe we have to be quieter and more still to feel their presence.  And what on earth would they think of what they would find today?  And what would they have to say to us?