A Small Death

Moving is like a small death. You know it's coming sooner or later. Then, when you know the actual moving date, you start planning, but not really, because you know it's all still far away.

Suddenly, as you find yourself walking with your family in the Tuileries, the lovely gardens next to the Louvre, it hits you. This is the last time in a possibly long time, or perhaps ever, that you will be walking here at sunset.

And so, you breathe in the warm summer air deeply into your lungs and feel the dusty limestone staining your feet, as you walk up to the ledge that leaves you breathless with the Eiffel Tower, the obelisk in Place de la Concorde and the Arc de Triomphe.

Painted Sky

Walking home from the playground with my toddler, I had to stop on the island in the middle of the street to take this picture. The only clouds in the sky just happened to be so perfectly aligned with the angle of the rooftops.

That's Paris for you, even the clouds look like they've been put there by an artist.

Setting Sun

I walk the same Paris city streets regularly. As I do so, I try to let the unexpected catch my attention, as well as enjoy the familiar that still fills my heart with joy.

But I do wonder. Will I stop seeing the beauty around me, in the way that we stop looking at the paintings or posters that hang in our homes? Will I begin to take this beautiful city for granted?

Thankfully it doesn't take much to snap me out of my musings. Just a turn or lifting of the head at just the right moment, and there it is, that connection with the here and now in all its perfection.

Walking home from a stroll along the Seine recently, skirting the Hotel de Ville from the back, I noticed the setting sun catching the yellow of the Metro "M", making it seem partially lit up.

Above Paris

Though I hate to admit it, I'm a couch potato. Living in Los Angeles for 12 years, where you drive everywhere, didn't help matters. Paris, on the other hand, has accomplished something that no other city has been able to do; I have actually become a walker.

Even so, when the weather is gray, as it has been most of the summer, my spuds-nature rears its head and I just want to lounge around the house in my sweats. Thus when my friend Merja asked me to join her on an adventure that I had wanted to go on for a while, I came up with a million excuses not to climb Notre Dame and see Paris from its bell towers.

Thankfully, I didn't whine to her and ended up having the time of my life, ranking the experience up there with climbing Uluru in Australia.

These photos were taken on the first level below the two towers.

(Famous Gargolye)


(Sacre Coeur is on the hill)


(Prefecture de Police and the Palais de Justice, Hitler ordered both to be bombed, as well as Notre Dame)


(The Eiffel Tower and La Defense Financial District)

(The steeple is the Sainte Chapelle)













These were taken from the top of the left tower (right tower if you are looking at the Cathedral).





(View of Ile Saint Louis and the gardens behind Notre Dame)


It was wonderful to see Paris from a whole new perspective.

It Takes So Little

Sometimes we feel stuck in our lives and we can't find the way out. We think that the only possibility is to work very hard to get through the quagmire. But sometimes, it takes as little as lifting ones eyes to see it all in a new way.



Waiting at a stop light a few weeks ago, I saw the statue of the Bastille in a whole new light. And the thrill of the discovery has added a perspective to the column so that now when I walk past it, I look up at the statue directly and then turn my head to look for its reflection in the window.

It's not just...

...the flowers that sprout during Spring.

.

(Photo taken in Place des Vosges)

A Bright Spot

It snowed in New York City last week, and I thought to myself, well, at least we are lucky to have such warmth here in Paris, forgetting (on purpose?) that the weather on the East Coast of the United States reaches us on the West Coast of Europe, in varying degrees, within four days.

And so yesterday, while I was in Herbeus looking for Australian Bushflower Essences, I noticed that it had, what I thought, started to rain.

It is only when I stepped out into the street that I realized, goodness me, it's hail.

People stood with long faces under shop and restaurant awnings, waiting it out. But me, how could I be depressed? I was warm in my expensive, French wool stockings and if that wasn't reason enough, I detected all the way down the street, a man with a bright, red umbrella.

The sky was gray, the air was cold, people looked unhappy, and here I stood blocking the entrance to the shop I just stepped out of, with what I'm sure was a loopy grin on my face, unable to tear my eyes away from the spot of color that moved closer and closer.


(If you click and enlarge the image, you can actually see the hail!)

Little things make me happy, and yesterday it was that bright, red umbrella.

April Chill

This year in Paris, we've had a mild winter and an early spring. This is always dangerous because now is the time people dress too lightly for the fluctuating temperatures.

Last week it was so warm, in fact, that I almost put away my winter coat, but I kept on thinking about the French saying, which is repeated like a mantra, En avril, ne te découvre pas d’un fil ; en mai, fais ce qu’il te plaît, (In April, do not uncover yourself by one thread; in May do as you wish).

I kept the coat out "just in case". And today was just that "just in case". It was reasonably warm, but there was a wind that stung with an arctic chill, making all of us huddle under the too little clothing that we all wore (I left my bonnet at home).

But Paris is Paris and there is always beauty somewhere that springs out of the cold. We found it walking home.