Once in awhile during a trip such as this, a day stands out from all the others. It can be a planned day or a day that unfolds serendipitously as this day did for me. But it is the kind of day that, as one reflects back on it, can never be replicated because so many little things have converged to create the magic.
Morning dawned sunny and bright. I had been in the apartment for a week and needed to do some organizing, cleaning a few things, and getting myself together. My plan was to take myself out to lunch on the opposite side of the Luxembourg Gardens from the apartment and then find a chair in the gardens, sit and read and people-watch. It took me until noon to get my act together in the apartment. (The girl is getting tired and is moving more slowly.) Wrapped in my rose-colored coat and scarf, tote bag in hand containing my book, I left the apartment, walked around the corner of the street and walked the half block to the gardens. Quite a few people were strolling on the streets. Trees are turning beautiful shades of golden, rust, red and many still with leaves of green. About a third of the way across the graveled allee of the gardens, I realized I had left my iPhone in the apartment, stopped and contemplated whether or not to turn back and retrieve it or go on. Retrieval seemed the better option…as I could see ahead of me some very tall urns full of beautiful rose-colored flowers spilling over the sides. I would need pictures.
Back on the pathway again, I could smell, before I could see, little ponies lined up to give kids rides. Whew!! Coming up along the back side of those guys was not the aroma I had imagined on a pre-lunch stroll. I moved right along as the pink urns were just ahead of me. These two urns, about twenty feet in height were at the top of the stairs leading down to the huge pond in the gardens, where children sail their little boats while parents, grandparents, and nannies circle themselves around the pond in the lily-pad colored metal chairs that are that are throughout the gardens. But, I am ahead of myself here.
There was a young couple from Australia taking selfies by the urns and I offered to take photos for them. A conversation ensued and thus I came away with my own two photos in front of the gorgeous rose-colored petunias in those urns.
If I were younger, I would have raced down the stairs and skipped towards the pond…there were so many kids and boats and it looked like they were having a wonderful time. I surreptitiously clicked off three photos of a young fellow launching his boat…ever-so-carefully stepping up on the raised concrete edge of the pond so he wouldn’t tip himself into the water.
Past the pond I climbed the stairs that mirrored the ones I had descended, once again admiring the beautiful petunia-filled urns. There were lush beds of flowers flanking the gravel walkway that led to the gates out of the park. I stopped and took pictures of the flowers and of the statue of George Sand that was tucked in among the flower gardens, reflecting back on the day in Shakespeare and Company, as she was one of the authors who graced the scene early on in the life of that bookstore. I was already very glad I had returned to the apartment for my iPhone.
I had lunch in a favorite tea room and enjoyed watching all that was going on around me in the lovely restaurant. Was also feeling proud of myself when my waiter raised his eyebrows and said, “Madame, vous parlez trés bien francais.” Bien sûr. I think they are always surprised when Americans speak in their language. Satisfied by a cup of soup, a delicious salad, an even better dessert and “un café espress”, I paid for lunch and started back across the Luxembourg gardens to find a chair where I could sit and read. In the distance there was singing and I followed the sound until I came upon the scene which you have now no doubt seen somewhere else on this blog. Hundreds (perhaps three or four hundred) of people of all ages singing together in harmony, songbooks in hand; a small group of musicians and two directors calling out the page number for the next song and waving their arms in an effort to keep the crowd singing together, all smiling, weaving to the rhythm of the music and at times clapping to the beat. It was a truly magical scene. Up in the gazebo where the musicians stood, a handful of people were dancing. It made me think of the tea dances that were so popular in the 40’s. I stood off to the side of a gentleman who had a beautiful singing voice and was totally engaged in the music. Next to him was the woman who explained to me the history of the event and said she had come into Paris from Versailles just for this afternoon sing a long. Next to me on my right was a woman from Croatia and on my left, her Egyptian husband who sang beautifully as well. (They were on holiday from their home in Hawaii.) In front of us was what looked like a family group standing in a circle together, a woman in her twenties directing her little group and they were belting out the songs with joy and in perfect harmony. What was a girl to but join in the singing! We sang something from the opera Carmen, another song called Mexico that was so amusing to hear being sung in French, and many songs I did not know. My favorite, and the one that drew me into the group was Je Ne Regrette Rien, a song written by and made popular by Edith Piaf.
And I participated with the crowd for almost an hour….it was a very organized event that happens twice in the summer/fall outside in the Luxembourg Gardens , then two times in the winter in a concert hall in the St. Denis quartier of Paris. It started eight years ago as a “manifestation” or protest march to support teaching music to
children in schools, and has continued and grown in the ensuing years. It is now simply a community sing-a-long. Hundreds of people, smiling and truly enjoying what might be the last absolutely beautiful day of autumn, conviviality all around.
Reluctantly I pulled myself away from the singing and meandered here and there making my way back to the place where I wanted to sit and read. I paused to take photos of ladies sunning themselves in chairs and on benches, noting with amusement the variety of outfits that constituted “sunning” clothes; and of men hunched over small square tables engaged in very serious games of chess; of the crowds gathered round to watch even more serious games of petanques, and back to the pond to view additional boats that had been launched during my luncheon/songbird couple of hours. There were more flower beds to capture on my iPhone camera as I finally found the perfect two chairs to park myself for reading.
Except that I got caught up in watching a little girl who looked to be four years old, dressed in an exquisite navy blue coat and matching shoes, long hair in ringlets that were wisped around by the breeze. She was in her own little world, sac in hand, running here and there gathering chestnuts. Then a family with an unhappy baby parked themselves on the bench next to my chairs (one for body, one to elevate legs). Clearly speaking a language that was not French, they tried in vain to calm the new little one and finally gathered themselves and took the baby for a calming stroll. Delightful distractions.
Eventually I settled into my book, enjoying the sun, the sounds around me, and the book…a novel about a New York woman, a Parisian flower shop, the Resistance and the Collabos during the Nazi occupation of Paris–easy to imagine the entire scenario as I traipsed around Paris myself.
There is more to this chapter…to be continued.
BrightlySheGoes 
Wonderful post! Love all the photos, particularly the first one of the little boy floating his boat, and the smaller ones below. Loved the description and the photos of people singing in the park! What’s the name of the book you were reading? When my son and I strolled throughout the Luxembourg gardens in late October, 2013, the temperature must have been 10 degrees cooler. No one was sunning themselves, everyone was scurrying. Your timing was perfect!
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