It’s a grey mid-winter week in Germany. I miss sunshine and green grass underfoot, and I find myself daydreaming about warmer places and times.
Places like Paris, maybe.
There is something about Paris. It’s astonishingly beautiful, elegant, and delicious. It may be a big city with the trappings of crazy traffic, the hum and drone of business, the crushing throng of summer tourists, but it rises above that in every moment. The beauty and joie de vivre is always what stands out. It’s the sort of place where even the mundane becomes majestic. And in summertime it absolutely shimmers.
The first thing we did after arriving in Paris last weekend and dropping our bags at the hotel was to stroll down to les Tuileries gardens, just a block or two away. We had been here back in June and loved the festive summer vibe of the space: children were running, jumping, sailing their boats in the ponds; adults were lazily watching and talking. The sky was a fantastic azure blue; the air was sweet with the scent of flowers in bloom.
November in les Tuileries has its own vibe– more subdued, but no less wonderful. For the most part, chairs were empty and people strolled rather than sat; leaves fell and the breeze blew lackadaisically; cafes offered up vin chaud (mulled wine); and all was right with the world.