Today is a uniquely Parisian brand of beautiful day. In many places, days like these would be cast off as miserable or dreary, but Paris seems to lay down and purr when they happen. A soft rain has glazed the sidewalks in an early morning shower, allowing cozy gray clouds to blanket the city. The hush of early August, mostly due to the great exodus of the French for holidays, has added an additional layer of softness that you cannot find at any other time of year. This unusual silence is only broken when small bands of tourists meander down the street in search of open cafes to rest their feet, and the random clack of a Parisian in heels on her way to procure croissants for breakfast. Occasionally, the music of the church choir hauntingly drifts up and into our flat, punctuated only by the gongs of the clock lazily counting down the day. Temporarily, the weather has taken pity on us city-dwellers and allowed for a listless, but chilly, breeze to run between the buildings gleefully, keeping the temperature at a wonderful Goldilocks medium. (Not too hot, not too cold, just right). The allure of this morning was enough for us to disengage our normal Sunday tactics of flirting to see who would venture out to purchase the coffee. Instead, we laid down our arms and went together. It is the kind of day that makes you long for autumn, and teases of it with the few dried leaves fallen from the trees due to summer heat. It makes you want nothing more than to stroll along the Seine, clutching a cup of coffee, and trade muted conversations with close friends. The sweet melancholy mood does not make you feel sadness, but instead a deep satisfying calm. When that breeze brushes passed you and tussles your hair, you pull it into your lungs ferociously, feeling it nourish even the deepest parts of your chest. It is possible to pull the outside calmness in, allowing an impromptu meditation that is both unexpected, and much needed.
These are the days I will use as framework to build my daydreams when we eventually leave our adopted home.
When I think of Paris, I will think of days like these the most.