Journal Entry: Spring 2019

I am writing of France because I am dreaming of France and that is reason enough for me. I am thinking of early mornings in the park alone on the bench accompanied by my notebook and a thermos of instant coffee. The way the light hit differently in the mornings always bright but never too sharp, sunglasses as an accessory rather than a necessity to avoid squinting. On the bench in the shade of nearly flowering trees I remember watching families filter in and out and students en route to classes. And I would simply sit and write and try and remember it all.

A scattered journal entry from Parc Jourdan (March 16):

Right now I am sitting in Parc Jourdan. I had a shower and put on my crisp pin striped blouse and filled my thermos with honey vanilla chamomile. I felt like being on my own with the breeze and my tea and my notebook.

The temperature is perfect and my only company is a pigeon who is thankfully keeping its distance. (edit*: Bobby? Was that you?)

Today in the park a young man pulls his girls hand to his mouth for a kiss on her fingers and a mother and daughter walk looped arm in arm.

Two twins wearing identical pink helmets, grey coats atop pink training bikes and followed by a smiling father and behind them a mother wearing the perfect colour green and a blend of orange and yellow on her scarf running after them.

There are a few couples on benches all wrapped in each. It is quite sweet and romantic.

I guess it might still be winter but it hardly feels it.