I start with a question. What agricultural crop could turn the fields around Grez-Doiceau blue? Answers by email … or by reading this blog!
Located just north of Grez-Doiceau, the tiny villages of Bossut and Gottechain are connected by an attractive eleven km walk (7 km plus an optional extra 4 km). Here is a map of the walk. You are also recommended to download this excellent description of the walk, which I found on the Grez-Doiceau website: Gottechain walk description. It gives some great historical background to many of the places mentioned in this blog.
Starting point (as always) is a church; this time in Gottechain.
Once you’ve found the church, you need to take the footpath to the left of the steps:
The route first goes through a “sunken lane”:
You will then come out onto the plateau with some gorgeous views.
Around these farms I heard the tri-syllabic of the quail, as immortalized by the oboe in Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony. Here’s an audio file of the quail so you know what I’m talking about, or listening to. I love hearing quail in the fields. They are so small and shy, and keep themselves hidden in the corn, that they are virtually impossible to spot. I’ve never actually seen one in the wild. So hearing their call is the next best thing.
Actually the fields around these fields were full of birds calling or singing. Here are two more of my favourites: the yellowhammer and skylark. I love listening to the skylark in particular, as it soars high in the sky pouring out its unending and seemingly joyful celebration of being alive.
The skylark is the topic of a poem by George Meredith, The Lark Ascending (1881), of which a few excerpts are:
“He rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake,
A press of hurried notes that run
So fleet they scarce are more than one,
Yet changingly the trills repeat
And linger ringing while they fleet,
For singing till his heaven fills,
’T is love of earth that he instils,
And ever winging up and up,
Our valley is his golden cup.”
The poem inspired Vaughn Williams to write the beautiful piece of music by the same name.
The path then passes through the village of Bossut. In both villages there are a number of impressive houses and lovely cottages. Click on any one to see the photos in detail.
But, you say, where are these blue fields? Well, firstly, as you have already seen, there are plenty of fields of green in this area:
I was actually lucky to see these fields in flower, as the flowering season is very short: each flax plant blooms for one day only. When ready, the flax plant is uprooted – not mown – and stacked to dry before the seeds are removed. The fibres are then used to make high-quality linen. The seeds provide oil for dyes, paints and cosmetics.
For centuries flax has been grown and transformed into linen throughout Belgium. It’s apparently very environmentally-friendly as it requires no irrigation and very little chemical treatment. Every part of the plant has value, eliminating any waste. It’s biodegradable and can be commonly recycled.
So, even in a short, local country walk, you never know what you will come across. It might be a blue field, a bird song, a photo opportunity: