WORD FOR THE DAY
As i walked down the avenue, the late afternoon sun was turning the lovely and dying sycamore leaves into fragments of brilliant stained glass, and i said to myself, "This alone is worth the price of admission to our broken and glorious world."
The special moment I referred to was so incredible. For a reason I do not recall, I was standing alone at the corner of Place Saint-Andre des Arts and Place Saint Michel. The weather had turned slightly cooler but a warm breeze surrounded me for a few minutes. It was light hearted and gentle and it swirled leaves around my feet and in the street. The bakery the to left of where I was standing smelled magnificent. And although I can admit freely that I am not a fan of accordion music, a older gent standing on the opposite corner played a hauntingly sweet tune (on this I must admit that sometimes I think I may have imagined him). I breathed in deep with my eyes closed wanting to commit the smell to memory. I let loose the sweet air and looked and thought to myself, "I want to remember this moment forever." That was 8 years ago and I still can recall the lovely scent and the warmth of the breeze on my cheek. It was worth every single hard moment of that trip and more.