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...Isabel and Gabrielle de Lafayette, two 16th century mothers superior (and ancestors of the Franco-American revolutionary, Marquis de Lafayette), who used Saint-Arcons-d'Allier as their summer retreat. They would be gratified to know that the village fulfils the same function today (the hotel is closed in winter), and relieved to hear that the original architecture has been respected. The rooms come appointed with antique Auvergnat furniture, Renaissance fireplaces, and even bread ovens. (If you would rather break bread than make it, candlelit dinners are served nightly in the château's wood-paneled dining room...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: "Ou Est l'Hotel?" | 6/24/2005 | See Source »

...mistaken for carvings on a stone frieze. Soon the frieze begins to ripple with motion as the cranes stretch their wings and, voices rising, take off in small groups of 20 and 30. For over an hour, the river casts out lines of great gray birds. They soar over winter-brown pasture and goldencorn stubble--giant kites on invisible strings. But sandhill cranes cannot pass for paper birds very long. The racket they make gives them away...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: In Nebraska: A Joyful Spring Racket | 6/21/2005 | See Source »

...uncle are both retiring, and I guess they wanted a little cash in their pockets." For as long as he can remember, Larry Moeller has associated the cranes with the coming of spring. This year the first pairs landed on Feb. 1, declaring an end to winter almost two weeks early. Ever since, the Moellers have become bird-watcher watchers. Led by a guide from the trust, cars and campers with license plates from all over the country parade daily by the farmhouse looking for cranes. At dawn and at dusk, the visitors gather in a large blind built...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: In Nebraska: A Joyful Spring Racket | 6/21/2005 | See Source »

What am I doing here? What are any of us doing here--a flock of mad ducks flown north for the winter, descending noisily on this modest, good-mannered nation? We're here for the story, naturally: journalists always turn their heads where the noise is. For the nearness of power too. Merely the thought of the two big bosses sitting knee to knee, tossing the world's well-being back and forth, is enough to thump the journalistic heart. Back in Reykjavík, in that stout symmetrical house by the water, an abstract enmity is reduced to two men talking...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Essay: On the Field of Ancient Peacemaking | 6/21/2005 | See Source »

While undergoing tests for a chronic back problem last winter, Republican Senator Paula Hawkins of Florida composed a letter intended to dispel doubts about her political future. "Dear Friend," it read, "I feel great! . . . We are about 30 days behind schedule in our fund raising . . ." The note looked as if it had been handwritten, yet if Hawkins had personally scribbled all 40,000 letters that went out, terminal writer's cramp would have set in. In fact, the note was run through a high-tech copier that duplicates the script...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: American Notes Oct 20, 1986 | 6/21/2005 | See Source »

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