It was exactly a year ago that my husband and I arrived in Paris for an unforgettable two-week visit. As December approached this year, I found my thoughts often returning to memories of that trip. This essay was intended to appear here two weeks ago, but after the terrorist attacks of November 13th, it felt insensitive and inappropriate to run it. Now I wonder if there might be some value in showing the beauty and richness of life in Paris. Here at Rear Curtain, our hearts go out to all those who are grieving. May the light of your magnificent city bring you some comfort.
I long to return . . .
Paris is different in December; so different from the hot, tourist-filled summer. On chilly afternoons, the slanting sun glints on the limestone buildings, combining warm and cold in a particularly beautiful way. The leafless trees provide their own architecture. There is drama in the wintry skies that appeals to the romantic soul.
Parisians are using Paris. Locals share the city with visitors at the cafes, in the museums, and walking along the Seine. The approaching holidays lend an air of anticipation and joy.
Paris sparkles in December. The days are short, but it feels like there is plenty of time – to enjoy a long lunch, to browse the holiday markets, to quietly experience the art, to dance in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, to live like a Parisian.