Where you can feel history.
|Chateau de Chenonceau|
My favorite place I walked, saw, and listened in France.
Hundreds of years of Kings, Queens, Mistresses, Revolutions and World Wars.
It was so long ago that I barely remember the facts of what took place there, but I do remember the hairs on the back of my neck standing up when I saw the Queen's chapel and her guards' names etched into the limestone walls dating back hundreds of years. They were gone, yet their names remained.
I remember the feeling of loneliness when gazing out the Queen's sitting room onto the flowing river below the chateau.
I remember the feeling of not knowing how many men suffered and died in the great hall that stretches to the shore opposite the entrance of Chenonceau. This castle has played a part in more than one war.
I remember the romance of the place as I strolled along the river and into the forest. The sound of songbirds softly chirping in the trees. And the tomb sitting in the softly lit clearing. Who it belonged to, I don't know.
I remember feeling happily haunted as I walked down the road to the Queen's maze carrying a piece of Chenonceau over my shoulder.
I look at it every day and remember those feelings of history.