Time Passing the Stone

The Chateau de Chenonceau stood in its own reflection, stone arches doubled in the River Cher. Above it, the clouds were being drawn into long streams across the blue, and the building beneath them did not move at all.
The day had been a gift from the start: a drive out of Paris into open countryside, green and easy, and no one had told me where we were going. The destination was being kept as a surprise.
The walk in was long, a track running beside the river with trees for company. The château stood ahead the whole way, small at first, growing with every step, and the closer I came the more it took hold of me.
The river offered a reflection so complete the chateau seemed to float on its own image. I gave the sky time to move, and it did, streaming past a building that stayed perfectly sharp. Everything soft in this frame is time. Everything sharp is stone.
Five centuries that building has stood over its river. That is what keeps drawing me back to France: the past is not kept behind glass here, it stands in the open air, among rivers and fields, still being beautiful. I was happy that day in an uncomplicated way, and the photograph has kept the feeling.
The composition rests on a single exchange: motion above, permanence below, and the water holding both. The clouds move on. The stone lets them.