Friday started off as a bad morning, rushing to an early appointment for passport renewal, mind churning an endless loop of rehashed conversations. “I’m a buratophobe,” phrase invented by my Irish muse, Ursula, flashing across my mental screen. Take metro, find Prefecture annex, head to reception area with my appointment info. “Take a ticket by the door, Madame!” Backtrack, sit down, wait, observe flood of fellow citizens from around the globe, babies crying, people on cell phones… My turn comes, I hand over paperwork and pictures, agent struggles with temperamental panasonic scanner and computer software. 45 minutes later, I’m out of there with a receipt, finally see the world around me: thriving Street market, Place des Fêtes, one of the highest hills in Paris, fresh air, sunshine…
From the French heartland!
Pungent spices and condiments from around the world!
Salted herring, wines, you name it!
Catch of the day!
My heart goes out to all the vendors and shoppers, thank you for keeping this alive, every Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday morning! I resolve to take time to make this part of my life. And then, just down the hill on the way home, this:
Divine essence, whatever you choose to be called, please help me see the beauty around me, and count my blessings. Amen xxxxx Aliss