Le Canigou

I’m a little late for my Friday blog, but I was having technical difficulties.   Can I do that?  Yes, I’m going to call that card: technical difficulties.  I guess you could say, “Just go to a hotspot café, they’re everywhere”, but let me remind you where I am: in the middle of the mountains.  There are no cafés.  Luckily, I found a computer guy not too far away, so “Mr. Computer” got the machine and the connection up and running again.  Since mountains and the challenges living near one is a timely subject for me, let me share some information about the most popular mountain in the region: Le Canigou.

Once thought to be the tallest peak in the eastern part of the Pyrenees Mountains, the Canigou is a sacred mountain to the Catalan region, the Southeastern most part of France.  It has been loved, feared, and honored for centuries and is the subject of numerous folkloric songs and stories.  It towers 9,137 feet in the air and is an ever present backdrop to life in the region.  In fact, on June 22, the summer solstice, a festival is held there, called the Flama del Canigó.   Each surrounding village brings wood to create an enormous bonfire that burns all night long.  Then, the flame is brought back down to the plain and used to light other festival fires.  I’ve never been to the Flama del Canigó, but if the night is clear, I can see the flame on the mountain from the terrace.

Growing up in the Chicago area, I was exposed to lots of corn covered flat land.  I’ve never lived near a mountain nor had the desire to; I was a Mid-Westerner.  Meat and potatoes, and corn, and lots of it.  That was of course until I moved into the middle of a mountain range in Southern France.  No corn, no flatland, and no gently rolling hills.  Now, Le Canigou has replaced the corn fields and I watch snow drift off its peak from September to May.  I like looking up and seeing if it has a new layer of snow or if the last of it has melted away for summer.  It’s a gage for the season, a lot like the height of the cornstalks in the field.  I do miss the Mid-West, and I think it takes a born and raised Mid-Westerner to say that, but I’m okay with the change.  The mountains are not an easy place to live, and sometimes, things like the internet can be elusive.  I’ve learned to role with the changes; besides, I guessing a hotspot café in the middle of a cornfield isn’t easy to find either.