Juliette’s Photo Album

Through the Lens of the Past

Through the Lens of the Past Long before From the Drop of Heaven came to life on the page, it lived in the mossy silence of the Vosges Mountains France and in the quiet corners of the former Principality of Salm. These photographs were taken during my research travels through northeastern France —where I followed the footsteps of my ancestors, listened to the land, breathed the air they breathed, and met my long-lost cousins. Each image in this album carries more than scenery; it holds memory, mood, and a whisper of the world that shaped my novel. I invite you to explore these places as I saw them—not as a tourist, but as a seeker looking for the truth in the bones of the earth.

On the Road Through History

From Strasbourg to Nancy

The photos were taken on the winding drive through the Vosges Mountains, traveling from Nancy to Strasbourg—an unforgettable route that cuts through the very heart of northeastern France. Far from the highways, the narrow roads twist through forests, stone villages, and misty hills that seem unchanged by time. It’s a region where the land still whispers old stories—of smiths, merchants, wars, and witch trials. As I drove, I imagined my ancestors walking these paths centuries ago, carrying with them hopes, secrets, and burdens I was only beginning to understand. This wasn’t just a research trip—it was a homecoming, a way of entering the world Catherine would have known. Every curve in the road felt like turning a page in her story.

Castle of Bernstein: A Glimpse Into Humbert’s World

When I saw the ruins of the Château de Bernstein perched high above the Alsatian hills, with its crumbling towers and moss-covered walls, something shifted in my imagination. Though little remains beyond stone and silence, I imagined the entrance to the iron mine in Le Petit-Courty. But it was the thought of the wine cellar that brought Humbert to life. I imagined him descending into the cool, shadowed vault behind the hidden wall of his shed, brushing cobwebs from a prized cask, drawing wine from barrels. The cellar became more than a place for storing drink or a place to hide from marauders; it was Humbert’s domain, his private retreat, his symbol of prosperity. Standing amid those medieval ruins, I felt time collapse. For a moment, the line between fact and fiction blurred, and I was no longer just a visitor—I was walking in the footsteps of my characters.

The Legends that Shaped a People

In the 1600s, the people of the Vosges Mountains lived in a world where myth and reality walked hand in hand. Dense forests cloaked in fog were not just wilderness—they were alive with spirits, wolves that might turn into werewolves, and witches who whispered in the wind. The line between folklore and faith was thin, and stories passed from hearth to hearth carried as much weight as any sermon. People salted their thresholds, hung sprigs of herbs above the door, and watched the skies for the Hellequin. These legends weren’t just entertainment—they were survival tools, moral lessons, explanations for the unexplainable in a time of war, plague, and famine. Superstition wove itself into daily rituals, shaping how people prayed, planted, healed, and feared. In Salm, where isolation bred both resilience and imagination, the legends were not just stories—they were truth. And they left their mark on every soul who lived beneath those ancient trees.

I knew I wanted to incorporate as many legends and superstitions into the book as possible, so when I was in the Vosges, I toured the areas where these legends were part of everyday life. Here are the photos.