Monday, October 13, 2008

RUBY JAEREN WEEKEND



Originated by MaryT, check hers for today
My hubby and I were guests in the realm of my Mom this week end. 60 kilometers of beach and good farming soil. The inland still is covered with stones brought here 10 000 years ago at the end of ice age. By the beach the farmers have cultivated the land by hand and later with heavy machinery. This last remaining primeval scenery is protected for the generations to come.


My mom still remembers that they had to cut turf for the fireplaces. The men cut, the women loaded the turf in stacks for drying. There are even yet hardly any woodland on Jaeren.
The farms by the sea have always been rich. This is Haa old vicarage. Now an art museum, but with sheep and cattle on pastures all around. The earth here is sandy, not far away there are great clay sources and a great , old factory. Hence the red roof stones .

My grandma came from a sea farm. My granddad from high Jaeren, just a few kilometers from this red house.
Its characteristic side shelters show the shape of a Jaerhouse. Shelters used for storage of turf and vegetables also helped protect the people from the howling wind .

The great poet of Jaeren lived his last years here and he and his wife are also buried at this land. A special honor from the government.
Arne Garborg was eldest son of a farm not far away. He denied his allodial possessions and left for our capital, "to study or to die". His father found this so hard, he committed suicide. Garborg was gifted indeed, but he chose to become an author and a poet. His whole life he wrote about the landscape and the people he had left. He gave Jaeren a voice, and a soul.The people of his homeland took him to their bosom, even when he was alive. Grieg composed music to his masterpiece about the Little Maiden of the Mountains. His plays are seldom played nowadays, but his songs are being song wherever people of Jaeren, or for that sake Norwegians, are gathered."Here and there on the hills and ridges low houses seek the shelter of each other in little clusters. In the dense air they almost hover away, swept in the peat smoke and sea mist like in a dream; secluded and still they lie on the moors like homes of trolls. Around the houses are bleak , green patches of field and pasture, like islands in the moorland; every patch and spot surrounded by stone fences in piles …."
From chapter 1 Peace By Arne Garborg'



The little maid
She is small and dark and slender

with dusky,
pure features
and deep gray
eyes
and a soft and dreamy manner.
It is almost as though a spell lay over her.
In her movements,
in her speech
there is this muted calm.
Beneath her forehead,
lovely but low,

her eyes shine as if through a mist.

They seem to be staring

deep into another world.

Only her breast is tight and heavy,
and there is a quiver about her pale mouth.

She is tremblingly frail and delicate,
and at the same time,
charming and young
.
The Little Maid of the Moutains By Arne Garborg

26 comments:

Maria's Space said...

I had never seen that poem it is so sweet. Love the building. Beautiful red.

marcia@joyismygoal said...

What lovely comments you left me I love your red roof and barn they are so inviting

maryt/theteach said...

Beautiful, interesting post, Felisol! Love the story about cutting turf and the poet of the place. The poem is lovely! The RED house! Marvelous! Mr. Linky is up now... :)

Anonymous said...

I love the character on the wall and the roof! I love the pictures!

My RT entries are posted here and here. Happy Tuesday!

Anonymous said...

Lovely photos and poem. Looks like a nice place to visit. I love the red house.

Paz

Jim said...

Hi Felisol, these are very pretty scenes you have posted today.
I like your red clay uses, we had a brick factory in the town where I attended high school in Nebraska.
There still are a lot of red brick buildings there now even though the factory has been long closed.

♥peachkins♥ said...

I love the pictures! Lots of reds and pink!

Here's mine:
Chips and Salsa and
Shabu-shabu on the go

Happy Ruby Tuesday!!

Dora said...

Wonderful place for holiday!

RW said...

Beautiful! Good RT to you!! :D

Rambling Woods said...

What a beautifully moving post. I especially like visiting blogs from other countries as it is like taking a trip without leaving home. Thank you so much for visiting my RT duck post. I appreciate it very much.

Anonymous said...

I love all the red-sided barns and boat houses and other buildings that I always see in pictures of Norway. I must visit some time. Thank you also for the interesting story. Happy Ruby Tuesday, Felisol.

MyMaracas said...

Everything about your post is pure poetry. The house and land are so mysterious and beautiful, the poem is lovely, and the story sweet and sad. Thank you so much for creating this for us.

Robin said...

What a lovely glimpse into your homeland.

Ivanhoe said...

I love those red roofs. Thank you for sharing another Norwegean story :o)

Renae said...

Elise, Coming to your blog is like going on a wonderful retreat. Thank you so much for giving us these beautiful pictures week after week.

Love,
Renae

Mojo said...

Beautiful shots, and a great history lesson to go with them.

Thanks!

Unknown said...

a piece of history unknown to most men. and blogging helps it to be heard, learned & seen!

Pia K said...

Such lovely pictures! Interesting read too.

Dianne said...

a lovely and interesting post Felisol. Thank you for taking the time to share so much

your photos are beautiful, but they always are :)

Raven said...

What a wonderful post. This looks like such beautiful countryside and I love the red houses and the beautiful red roofs. I feel like I've been on a short but wonderful journey. Thank you.

Mrs. Mac said...

You always put so much thought into your Ruby Tuesday post. Your mentioning of cutting turf for the fireplaces reminds me of reading a chapter from one of the Little House on the Prairie books (by Laura Ingles Wilder) ... her family was without firewood one winter and they made bundles of twisted straw to burn just to keep warm ... a non stop job to survive the winter.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful scenery and story.

Amrita said...

Beautiful post Felisol, full of music, poetry, history and memories.I didn 't know Grieg was Norwegian, I like his music. The houses are lovely

Sue Seibert said...

Love the photos and the history and I really enjoyed the poetry. Beautiful. Sounds like your mother is doing quite well.

Amrita said...

I want to add something. Your blog layout and template colour and font and the font size are very easy on my eyes.Soothing and large. I like it. Some blogs are very good but I find them difficult to read because theyr font is small.

Terry said...

Dear Felisol,
It is eve of another Ruby Tuesday but I felt I had just better get here and catch up with you by commenting on the last two Ruby Tuesday
Alas! So much reading and looking at your beautiful pictures and reading your great writings and so little time!

I cannot blame the poor father for feeling so melancholy that his son left the farm life.
How beautiful and homey and full of life was the farm!
Perhaps though the younger Mr.Garborg dipped into his rich heritage and wrote some of his poetry from it!
That Maiden poem is so wonderful Felisol. It puts me to mind of one beautiful little princess that we are acquainted with, dressed in a delicate white dress..love Terry