I got back after a long day walking along the Seine, immortalizing sunsets into stills. The room is dark, it's musky from the smell of impending rain and the bottle of red wine I opened last night and left on the bedside. I opened the window to look outside and I realized the sun was still in its final stages of setting. I had my dinner, microwaved pasta, while I watched the sun fade from dark orange to deep blue to black. I sat in silence and observed, something I don't do very often.
Usually I add my own soundtrack to things, you know how we always think a song fits a certain scene and mood, to improve and to refine. But this time the only accompanying sound was the chatter and jazz sounds coming from the restaurant downstairs. The clatter of a fork against a plate, the clink of two champagne flutes coming together like a lover's kiss. Some inaudible French conversation before I hear a girl's laughter drift up the rafters and into my window, a bauble of happiness.
Billie Holiday croons softly. And then I think I felt it. I felt true happiness appreciating beauty in such a pure and quiet form. I was alone, but I didn't really feel it. It overwhelmed me in a way...
Life is beautiful. It creeps up on you in so many ways but I realize how little I take the time to notice it. Everything holds beauty.
Winter had just left. It lingered for a moment too long, like an ex lover it pondered-
Should I stay, or
Should I go?
It snows, and you think, how peculiar to be gifted this in April - why? Why come back?
It's comforting. but seasons are meant to change.
We move on. Winter packs up, spring wakes up amongst blooming flowers and the pollen celebrates by dancing in the breeze.
We take in deep breaths of new air.
We are new people.
I noticed a few specks of dust floating in the street lamps just shining outside my window. They float on quietly.
I am transported, I tell him.
To getting lost in Paris, in its charm and all its flair. To the magic in the moonlight and summer flowers in your hair. I raise a toast of day-old wine to the cobbled streets that held a hundred thousand lovers, the bronze structure that makes up the Eiffel Tower, the twinkling lights of the city that always waits and never sleeps, like a heart that is bursting with thoughts waiting to be spoken, and the glorious moment when the sun shone through your eyelashes that one time -
Usually I add my own soundtrack to things, you know how we always think a song fits a certain scene and mood, to improve and to refine. But this time the only accompanying sound was the chatter and jazz sounds coming from the restaurant downstairs. The clatter of a fork against a plate, the clink of two champagne flutes coming together like a lover's kiss. Some inaudible French conversation before I hear a girl's laughter drift up the rafters and into my window, a bauble of happiness.
Billie Holiday croons softly. And then I think I felt it. I felt true happiness appreciating beauty in such a pure and quiet form. I was alone, but I didn't really feel it. It overwhelmed me in a way...
Life is beautiful. It creeps up on you in so many ways but I realize how little I take the time to notice it. Everything holds beauty.
Winter had just left. It lingered for a moment too long, like an ex lover it pondered-
Should I stay, or
Should I go?
It snows, and you think, how peculiar to be gifted this in April - why? Why come back?
It's comforting. but seasons are meant to change.
We move on. Winter packs up, spring wakes up amongst blooming flowers and the pollen celebrates by dancing in the breeze.
We take in deep breaths of new air.
We are new people.
I noticed a few specks of dust floating in the street lamps just shining outside my window. They float on quietly.
I am transported, I tell him.
To getting lost in Paris, in its charm and all its flair. To the magic in the moonlight and summer flowers in your hair. I raise a toast of day-old wine to the cobbled streets that held a hundred thousand lovers, the bronze structure that makes up the Eiffel Tower, the twinkling lights of the city that always waits and never sleeps, like a heart that is bursting with thoughts waiting to be spoken, and the glorious moment when the sun shone through your eyelashes that one time -
