![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPGHPJGligKGm85yfkpIkcwBASbGednunazUH9pJ42grpXITt3ifoX0MsyPyB_y4Y0AXbFePpVwvq2gku0_2aIgDBRkCIg8zoxMdgkU8tHX7i-mDF4p-RMtnfEDSkxal-Ld0FE/s400/Analect2.579x.jpg)
23 September 2009. Sun like always...
Scabbard and standard, prepare for battle. Dark woods and dripping stream, Lancelot du'Lac--Bresson's vision, where the knights appear only as a sudden flash amidst the undergrowth--glint of armor and braised cuff... Or, a peasant girl from the east of France--the Maid of Orleans, as in the song...
Limousin, d'Auvergne...
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