Grand Manan ne serait  pas Grand Manan sans son ferry et son phare. Vous prenez l’un pour venir, vous voyez l’autre en arrivant. Bien sûr, vous découvrirez une fois sur l’île qu’il y a ou qu’il y a eu d’autres ferries et qu’il y a ou qu’il y a eu d’autres phares, mais parce que ce sont ces deux-là qui ont été votre première rencontre, ce sont ces deux-là que vous garderez le plus en mémoire.  Les images de votre premier amour,  en quelque sorte, avec ses couleurs particulières, son parfum d’aventure, son exotisme. Il n’y a donc pas toujours besoin d’aller loin pour se sentir loin. Il suffit parfois de prendre un bateau dans un terminal perdu au bout d’une route improbable et vous y êtes.  Vous sentez alors que l’histoire ne s’arrêtera pas là et une fois sur le sentier qui mène à Swallowtail, vous guettez le moment où le ferry passera au large–à défaut de phoques ou de baleines, et vous savez alors que ça y est, vous appartenez à l’île.


Grand Manan would not be Grand Manan without its ferry and its lighthouse. You take one to come, you see the other one when you arrive. Of course, once on the island, you’ll discover that there are or have been other ferries, and that there are or have been other lighthouses, but because these two were your first encounter, they are the ones that you’ll most strongly keep in your memory. Images of your first love, in other words, with its particular colors, its perfume of adventure, its exoticism. It means you don’t always need to go far away to feel far away. It’s sometimes enough to take a boat in a remote terminal at the end of an improbable road, and you are there. You now feel that the story won’t stop at that, and once on the trail that leads to Swallowtail, you are watching for the moment when the ferry pass off -in the absence of seals or whales, and you know that that’s it, you belong to the island.

Extrait du livre bilingue  - From the bilingual French-English book " Ile de Grand Manan Island" . Histoire - Story 1/31

Il y en a toujours une quelque part au détour d’un chemin, une boite dont on se demande à quoi elle peut bien servir et si la prendre ferait une grande différence. Celle-là, par chance pour le reste de l’humanité, est haut perchée sur d’anciens parcs à homards et à priori, elle est à l’abri du vandalisme. Il se peut même qu’elle soit encore connectée à une ligne électrique, ce qui la protège d’autant plus. Ce que vous ne savez pas cependant, c’est si la photo a été prise avant que la boite ne soit démontée ou si elle est encore là. Il ne vous reste donc plus qu’à aller voir quelque part le long de Shore Road si vous la trouvez et dans tous les cas, quel que soit le résultat de votre recherche, vous aurez de belles vues sur les anciens parcs à homards et sur les îles de Nantucket, Ross et Great Duck au large.  Ne serait-ce que pour ces raisons, cela vaut bien la peine de vous mettre en route.


You regularly see one somewhere along any path, a box you wonder what purpose it can serve, and what kind of differences it would make if you were to take it home with you. This one, fortunately for the rest of humanity, is high perched on an old lobster park and, a priori, has nothing to fear from vandalism. It may even still be connected to a power line which will protect it all the more. What you don’t know, however, is whether the picture was taken before the box was disassembled, or if it’s still there. All you have to do is go and check for yourself if you find it, somewhere along Shore Road. In any case, and whatever the outcome of your investigation, you’ll have beautiful views of the old lobster parks and Nantucket Islands, Ross Island and Great Duck Island in the distance. If only for these reasons, it’s worth taking the trip.

Extrait du livre bilingue - From the bilingual French-English book:  "Ile de Grand Manan Island". Histoire - story 16/31

Contrary to appearances, there is nothing like a right time and a right place. It would be too simple and too easy. Time and place have to be manipulated in order to fit, and you do it either by moving a little, or by waiting a little. Of course, the general setting must be in place when you arrive, but if you do not see it, it disappears quickly. In that sense, you are the one organizing everything, adjusting the details, deciding when it is right. It is true for a photograph, it is true for more general events too. If you are not ready, if you are not looking for something, nothing will happen. The difficulty resides in the fact that you cannot have a clear idea of what to look for, otherwise you would know how to get it and it would blind you to other possibilities. At the same time, you have to have at least an idea that something could happen in a field you are interested in, otherwise you would never be able to concentrate enough to see what could be interesting. In other words, you have to be prepared, but there is a limit to what you can prepare for, and there is also a limit to how much you can manage correctly when it happens. There will never be a right time and a right place if you do not prepare yourself for it, and count only on chance. It is relying on miracles, rare occurrences that, anyway, can bless only the faithful. You have to be on the lookout for an undetermined amount of time, and the longer the better. It could be depressing if you only concentrate on one thing, yet if you are open to many possible occurrences, you have a better chance of finding them at one point or another. It is just a law of probability, spread you bet, win more often. Knowing that desire quickly substitutes pleasure, it seems a good tactic in the long run. In that sense, there could be something like a right place and a right time, but only you make it happen by us quickly grabbing what comes in view and fits your need. It is still a hunting technique, whether you like it or not.

This story is extracted from "Images, Voyages, Impressions 2", sold out as a book but available as an ebook and in "The Best Of" (book and ebook)

At first, you do not even see her. While she, she saw you a long, long time ago, as soon as you appeared in fact, and she surveyed you, giving you a danger rating, ready to jump if you were too menacing. It seems that you are not, not yet anyhow, how could you be when you are not even aware she is there? When you do see her, it is you that will jump, scared, or at least surprised and a bit confused. How is it possible that she escaped your attention? She is only a frog, nothing to worry about, but imagine if she had been a more menacing creature. Once you come back to your senses, you will start to appreciate her ability to blend into the background. She is here without being here, a lesson in humility one might say. Or in survival, depending on your point of view. Anyway, she seems completely at ease, relaxed, happy, is that not a smile you can discern on her face? Is she smiling to you or at you, you cannot know. From her perspective, it is not even clear that she sees you as you think you appear. You might say that she sees your legs mainly, the comic flip-flops you are wearing today, and way above, a gray shape reaching the sky, out of her horizon. Or perhaps, considering the shape of her eyes, she sees you as two different entities, reconstructing you in her head in a way you cannot fathom. In any case, there will only be this fleeting encounter between you and her, no answers provided, you will go, she will go, your worlds are too far apart to allow any communication. You seem to understand what she is doing, it is possible that she has an idea of what you are doing, yet you will never know for sure, and it could be anthropomorphism pure and simple. A green frog between green stems is a complete mystery that you can only capture on your camera and look at later, wondering what to make of this encounter. Which proves that you are still far from knowing as much as you thought you knew, does it not?

This story is extracted from Images, Voyages, Impressions, 2, sold out as a book but available as an ebook and part of "The Best of" (ebook and printed edition)

You have seen them in all the schools you ever attended, they have hidden your secrets and mistakes, they have been your little refuges far from home, you have slammed their doors more than once and it got you into trouble, however you suddenly realize you have never seen them for what they are. Left to themselves, they shine, they transcend their mundane utility, they are artworks, colors, lines. How can you have been so mistaken? They were there, all stuck together in what seemed infinite rows, they had no identity apart the one conferred by stickers bearing the names of their temporarily owners, after a while, you knew the way they reacted when you were opening their doors, each one had its own particularities, but it was not obvious at first, and most of the time, these particularities seemed to come more from something you had done, like jamming the lock or bending a shelf inside, rather than coming directly from them. Now that you see them in an unexpected place and in an unexpected position, you wonder if these lockers whose contrasting colors would have offended all the headmasters of all your successive schools have a personality that you can only see when they are in an unusual setting. Or if they change personalities when they move from one location to another, like you do. If this is the case, it opens a world of opportunities, and you are thinking that this old lamp you have in your basement, if you were to put it in another place, could it start a new life? Instead of buying new trinkets to decorate your home, could not you move the old ones, and play with them in order to change the impression they give? Using your imagination instead of your wallet suddenly seems very appealing. Of course, the end result would be your image, original or, depending on the opinions, crazy, but would you not be at least the main character in your life instead of an extra playing a role someone else decided you should do? In fact, it is decided, as soon as you get home, you will begin to create your own masterpiece, they are waiting for you in the attic boxes.

From Images, Voyages, Impressions, 2 (ebook only) or The Best of (ebook and book)

You see four people at the edge of the fog, busy looking for something in between the pebbles, or at their feet, but what attracts you first is the color of their clothes, bright red and orange with patches of white in an otherwise brown gray surrounding. It is life versus oblivion, light against shadow, fantasy against uniformity. Then you get the vague memory of a picture hanging somewhere in a museum, a Whistler painting perhaps, or a Turner, a nineteenth-century painter in any case. You remember some characters along a beach, bent on something you cannot discern precisely, surrounded by fog. Like the picture, your memory lacks clarity, and it is not the first time that you have insights of that kind, as if there was a repetition of some patterns lost in between other memories. Anyway, if the story here is the story of four people on a beach looking for something you do not know anything about, and if it is a scene you have already seen, you begin to realize there must be a sense of eternity in it. It also means you have a sense of what eternity is, albeit vague. It is perhaps as simple as brightly clothed forms strolling along the seashore, looking for bits and pieces of nothing, looking for something entirely different from what they will eventually find, drawn by the pleasure of the find more than by the actual find, their acts the embodiment of a life spent strolling on the earth towards something that escapes them, but enjoying the search nevertheless. If Whistler painted this picture a long time ago, assuming it was him, it must also have occurred to him that there was, in it, an idea to be represented. Now that you get the same impression from a different but identical scene, is it not the proof that something hides behind appearances?

Extract from Images, Voyages, Impressions, 2 (sold out as a book but available as an ebook)

The top of the stairway is like a conch, with a touch of light inside. You had to climb hundreds of steps to arrive here, it was not a free ride, yet you had hoped it would be worth the price. So far, the journey to the top has been an adventure. This old tower is full of stories and mysteries. You imagine lots of people coming here before you with their joy and sorrow, hope and despair. You know nothing about them, but you know that they still exist in the worn out steps, the smooth handrails, the glistening stones. You have stopped many times to look up, at least it is what you said at the time, although it was also to catch your breath. You have seen this magnificent conch become bigger and bigger until you were inside, able to marvel at the details of the carvings and the time, patience and skills involved. In a way, you would like to own such an architectural beauty, put it in your home, look at it with delight, but you know that even if you could, it would not be reasonable. You do not have the rest of the building to go with it, and besides, you are just passing like everyone else. So you linger a bit more, hoping that nobody will come and spoil the moment. Then you take the little door that opens to the outside. More light, the light of the sun this time, it makes you blink. Gradually you make out the red roofs of the old town below, the new buildings shining white further on the other side of the river, and far in the distance, the first mountains. On your right, an iron cast angel blows into a trumpet, and behind, the slatted roof of the cathedral with its two fine towers looks to the north. What a view! You were not sure it was a good idea to come up here. There were many other things you wanted to do with the short time you had, but for once you are glad you followed your instinct. You are now above everything in this town, and you had forgotten how wonderful it is to be on top of the world.

From ebook  "Images, Voyages, Impressions" 52 stories and 52 photos, or book "The Best of"

A trail in the countryside is like an invitation to travel. You know you will not go really far as you are on foot today, yet it is still worth following it. You can, after all, find adventures anywhere if you are ready for them. You have never walked on this trail, it could be disappointing, but from where you are now, it looks inviting. In your stomach you already feel the expectations of all there is to come. You see a grove not far away, and you wonder what will lay there: a pleasant place to read a book hidden in wild grasses, a tree with fruit nobody will claim except you, or a hare that will jump in front of you and make your day? Most likely, the trail will just go further without anything special to remember, but at that point, it will be too late to turn back.  Your legs will have warmed up and told you they are ready to go further and further until you know that you have had a really good walk. Even if you saw nothing in particular, you will realize that you just enjoyed being outside. You enjoyed feeling the alternatives of sun and shade on your skin as the clouds passed quietly in the sky. You enjoyed feeling your body relax and your mind forget what was bothering it. It is quite possible that there was a nice place to lie down and read a good book, yet you did not see it. You even forgot to look for it after a while. It was enough to walk and daydream. The quest was just an excuse to get you started. If you want to read, there are plenty of places where you already know you can go. The problem is, you do not have that much time to do it anyway, and when you are outside, you prefer walking and seeing what there is to see. The hare, oh yes, you saw one which was fun, you also soon forgot about it. There were no fruit trees, but you do not eat that much fruit to begin with, so it does not matter after all. In fact the reasons you may have to do something will not always be the reasons that will make you finish it. There is a magic at play in daily endeavors that will sometimes transform the way they are perceived. It is surely why life is good, and full of uncertainties waiting to be discovered.

More stories and photos in the ebook "52 weeks"

You are hungry, it is like you have not eaten for days, and you can nearly smell this bread. It has been baked this morning just before the opening of the market. It is warm and crusty. What you need is some butter to put on it, or even better, some homemade jam, the one your grandmother used to make with the fresh strawberries that she had picked from her garden. Just thinking of it makes your mouth water. It is not that you do not like corn flakes or donuts but once in a while, you crave for bread. It has an old world flavor that you sometimes like with some real orange juice, dark Colombian coffee, white napkin, shiny silverware and assorted plates. It makes a one of a kind breakfast. Even better than croissants that most of the time look tastier than they are, except of course if you are in France where there is nothing like them on a Sunday morning with a newspaper. But if it were here exactly like it is in France, there would be no incentive to travel, would there? The point is, eating is a wonderful pleasure when you take time to choose the ingredients of your meal, arrange everything neatly on a table, give yourself some time to savor each bite, and forget about everything else. In fact, it is an art but you do not have to go to a fancy restaurant to appreciate it, a large round loaf of bread, some cheese and smoked salmon, a glass of white chilled wine, and you are done. The best part of it certainly starts at the outdoor market where you have a chance to see the colors and smell the odors of food, sometimes taste some bites of it, and where you go from one vendor to another in search of the perfect combination for your future meal. If you do not have an outdoor market near your house, a grocery shop will do, do not worry. Then at home, it will be time to plan your next moves: how are you going to set the table, will you be inside or outside, will you need candlelight or not. It seems complicated but in fact, it takes just a few minutes to organize everything, especially if it is a simple meal, and it builds your appetite and expectation. Once seated, everything within reach (it is always so annoying to realize that you forgot something on the kitchen counter!) it is time to enjoy. Bon appétit!  

Story # 4  from my book Images, Voyages, Impressions as an ebook, sold out as a book, but available on "The best of" printed edition.

Today you will go to the islands, the ones you thought about many times but never had a chance to visit, always too busy doing something else. You arrived way too early to embark. The ferry was not here yet, the benches were empty. You knew it would be so, and you wanted it that way in order to fully enjoy the excitement of the wait. Not the wait until deciding on the trip, that one was lost in the day-to-day concerns of your life, but this wait. Now you know you are going, you must enjoy every bit of the adventure and it begins right here, right this minute, on these old benches. You are eager to see how your other still unknown companions will settle around you. Your guess is the first ones will most likely choose to sit at a distance; you will discreetly glance at each other to get a sense of who you are, yet as time passes, space will become scarce, some people will have to be next to you. Will they be young, old, alone, couples, with or without children? Will they be nice, interesting, grouchy? Will you make friends right from the start, not that you need new friends at this time, but who knows? Will they ignore you, which is perhaps what you would prefer, as it will give you more time to be spectator? In any case, you do not want to miss this part of the trip, this expectation that is the sure sign of a special day. Here they come, two young guys with a bag each, but they already prove you wrong. They do not sit on the benches, they lean on the railing in front of the sea, next to the chain that closes the way to the embarkation dock. Could they be students coming back home for a vacation? Seasonal workers hired to help in a restaurant? You do not have time to find the answer: a group of adults and children is coming noisily towards your seat. For sure they are going on a day trip to the island; you can see that they have everything they need for a day at the beach. Yet they go further and disappear behind a corner. Never mind, you start to smile as you contemplate all that has already happened in such a short while, and you know you were right to come early. It is going to be a memorable trip.

Extract from the ebook Images, Voyages, Impressions