Summer in Paris

A cloudy summer evening. We’re walking aimlessly through the big city.

On the banks of Seine, young people are chatting around something to eat and drink. The waves created by big tourist boats fade away at their feet.

The Seine between Pont Neuf and Pont des Arts (July 2021)

The rain comes unexpectedly and we find ourselves floating in a sea of umbrellas. For a few moments, it rains heavily. Il pleut des cordes, as they say here.

Saint-Severin Church and the Latin Quarter under the rain (July 2021)

The setting sun appears through the rain. It changes the contrast and texture of things. It makes them heavier, more real. Shadows are getting longer.

A busy street in Saint Germain-des-Pres (July 2021)

I don’t know if it was me taking your hand or you taking mine. We enter this old, glass-covered Parisian passage with small shops and cafes. Embroidery, stamps, jewelry, toys.

A silver-haired guy in a colorful coat, perfectly in tune with the atmosphere of the passage, briefly looks at the posters then enters a stamp shop. He looks like he belongs here.

Jouffroy Passage (July 2021)

When we get out on the other side of the passage, the rain has passed, the streets have dried up, and it’s almost dark. It’s just that indefinable after-the-rain smell that still endures.


11 thoughts on “Summer in Paris

  1. I sigh for this sweet escape. 🕊 Thank you, Florin, for all of your deeply mined shares. I’m so grateful for how your thoughts open up, how they open ours up, too. I little bit like the various colored umbrellas popping open all together as you captured so cleverly. ☂️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Now that you brought me back to that moment, it’s funny how I remember it so well. The rain, the smells, the way I felt. Thanks a lot, Allison! I truly wish that sort of escape for you (it doesn’t need to be Paris). Unlike so many other escapes, this one actually brought me closer to myself.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh god that gorgeous rain smell, that impossibly gorgeous mix of the hardness of the pavement with the wet heat of the mist. That’s it. Maybe it isn’t the escape I crave, it’s the diving straight into what’s really there in front of me… just as you so brilliantly say, Florin. What I really want – all I really truly want – is to get closer to myself. Thank you, my poetic friend. Thank you. 🤍

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