Palm Sunday.
The little French girls told me, while giggling, "We have the biggest bouquet of holy palms."
Annie, I thought you would like this scene.
Little children, just like yours Kristy, show me joy in simple things.
Elaine, the flowers in Paris seem to stand up and sing.
Freida, a rose, is a rose, is a rose… but they do seem to sing differently in France. La vie est belle.
Teresa, above the Sacre Coeur, is an artist haven. Painters upon painters, painting people and places. The blue sky opened the way for a flood of colors to spill today.
Jenny, there were thousands of people in line…a white lilac I could not leave at the door, sorry!…. and Chelsea, I searched for empty stairs to photograph for you. But from the metro to the inside of Sacre Coeur there are 2583 stairs, and every single stair had ten people on it. Searching for empty stairs nearly killed me. Every inch of the butte de Montamarte was covered with people.
Berrie, the real can-can girls are in the Moulin Rouge or Lido…these have their clothes on. I hope you don’t mind? Gee, Palm Sunday, Moulin Rouge, can can girls, what will be next?
Angela-Marie, asked me to find a French woman wearing a hat.
Isn’t she theatrical?!
When I saw her I said to myself,
"Now that is a-woman-with-a-hat! What a dream-come-true!"
I asked her if I could take her photograph, she said, "Where shall I stand?"
Yes Susan, nearly every morning I have had breakfast with Paris.
Brother Mathew, remember when you rode your bike around the Arch of Triumph?
Le chat noir, a black cat peeks from the window…does this count as wildlife Sognatrice?
Carlene, you asked me to find you a French naked man…
and Sognatrice asked if I could show her wildlife…
This French naked man has leopard underpants…
I think I should have a gold star for finding this double whammy!
Photos of Paris. Post cards for my friends. More to come!
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