friday

If you have the good fortune to find yourself in France and if you happen to enjoy napping in long leaves of grass, identifying plants and flowers (with book in hand, mind you), and rowing canoes down quiet waters, you cannot miss the Jardin des Plantes. Tucked away on the far right of the left bank, I spent many an hour wandering through this maze of green. Unfortunately, like most public French gardens, you aren't allowed to sit on the grass, but there are a few idyllic spots to rest if you need a breather. The gardens are situated between the main outlets of the Museum of Natural History: upon wandering, you may stumble into the botanical school, the Art Deco winter garden, the rose garden, a small zoo, or the other galleries of the museum. There are parents chasing children, silent-types playing bocce, and the occasional jogger mindfully running beside your path. I came here on days when I was very sad and very lonely and always left breathing in trees with a skip in my step. And on the days when I did walk for hours through these endless gardens, I enjoyed extending my journey along the Seine, catching the late sun through the windows of the Notre Dame, walking leisurely before the next showing at the Filmothèque du Quartier Latin (or l'Action Christine or Le Champo or les Actions Écoles). In short, I miss Paris wildly/painfully/profoundly and I will be woefully/happily/nostalgically harping on about it for the next few days/weeks/months.

As always, I'm a bit speechless reading all of your kind words.
Thank you for giving me some of your time.