bonjour à paris

Until January 16, my home is in Asnières-sur-Seine, a suburb of Paris at the end of the métro ligne 13. Coincidentally, my first stay in Paris was in the 14th arrondissement on Rue Didot, at the other end of the 13. These funny little coincidences happen to me quite frequently, and I always like to think of them as signs that have to mean  something. If I were a religious person I suppose I would think of it as God's way of telling me I'm in the right place, but I'll swap "God" for "the universe" and then it makes more sense to me. I'm a big fan of equilibrium and symmetry, so realizing that my time in Paris has a fully symmetrical ring to it makes me fall even more in love with this beautiful, complicated city. Last time I was here it was summer, and the days stretched long and languished over stacks of apartments and flurries of people enjoying the pink skies. People sat with their feet dangling over the seine, sipping wine from the bottle and eating baguettes. The métro was packed to the doors, dank and moist with trapped heat intensified by human congestion. Now it is winter. The days are short and timid, emerging for a few crisp, biting hours until the clouds envelop the world and trap the lights beneath. Rain is frequent, pooling in the cracks between the cobblestones and washing filth into the sewers. People dressed in dark colors walk with scurried purpose towards glowing cafés, métro entrances, grocery stores, apartment buildings. It's the other half of the year in Paris, seen from the other side of Paris. How's that for symmetry?