City of Lights

Sitting on my balcony tonight, watching the sun set and the moon brighten, I watched Paris pass by on the street below me. 

The street lights came on and the haze of the stormy days brightened everything. 

It was magnificent. 

If I had been an artist, I would have painted it, if I had been a poet, I would have lyricized about it, but I am neither, and thus would have inadequately portrayed the images that have been indelibly printed on my mind, hopefully for a lifetime. 

The best I can do, is try to describe it, as foolhardy as that sounds, I have to try.

The place I am staying is in a quieter part of Paris. The more suburban, family friendly, more appropriately higher priced area. Thus, it has a sense of tranquility about it. There is a quiet that descends with the sun, even at a late hour. My balcony extends down and around the entire floor and corner of the building. So meandering around, I watched. 

The weather has been stormy here. Thundering without rain, hazy and brilliant at others. The air has been heavy with moisture turing a 75 degree day into a scorcher and the metros into a hot bed of personal heat and angst. It's also tourists season and the terminals are a cacophony of languages, strollers and fanny packs. It's almost laughable, so much so that a fellow passenger and I shared a sigh and smile at the heat and tourists, and their eventual convergence onto our shared train ride home at rush hour. 

So as the sun began to descend and a cool breeze swept away the remaining rain and humidity of the day, I carried my wine out to enjoy the moment of outdoor bliss. But as I sat down, I was more taken aback by the interchange of light and light. Earthly light mingling with heavenly light as one took the reins from the other for the evening. 

The last remaining wisps of clouds drew themselves long and thin as if to heave a sigh of relief at no longer carrying their burden of rain that had already fallen for the day. The sliver of moon picked up it's brightness, seeming to smile at its turn to shine down, second fiddle to the star of the sun. The sky turned from a lazy blue to a lurid green cohabitating with the newly lit street lights and their golden haze. Slower than you would assume, inky blackness took over, waiting as long as possible to allow citizens to find their way home, or the the cafe situated directly below me. 

Down the street, the architecture blended perfectly with the scene. No higher than 6 stories, black iron balcony's and turn of the 19th century finery flow from one complex to the next, nodding their reluctant approval to the store fronts below. Gilded windows, shining a few family lights out added to the warmth of the aged buildings, bringing to life their character and stately structures. 

Trees lining the streets speak quietly to themselves as the breeze that has brought a coolness to the day kicks up their leaves. Full and green, they bring a lushes green to the now murky blue and purple sky breaking up the scene yet flowing perfectly. 

The chatter of the cafe below comes to life as patrons settle in for their Friday night rituals of three hour meals and the favored cigarette, wine and peanuts that I have come to find everywhere. Laughter mingles pleasantly with clanking silverware and the mopeds constantly zooming from one area to the next. Even the children passing by with their parents feel the calm of the moment with smiles and giggles. 

The cement beneath my feet is still warm from the afternoon sun, having soaked it up for hours evoking memories of childhood, summer late nights and sidewalk games. The smells of the city have been washed away leaving the aromas of coffee, cigarettes and clean are to mingle perfectly parisian. 

And as the evening continues to give way to the City of Lights, I hear myself sigh with it. For a moment all is peaceful, all is calm. Tomorrow with bring another day of sites, sidewalk wrestling and bad french attempts, but for right now, this is my favorite Paris. The one that doesn't know it is being watched.