Ah, Paris

I just got into Paris this morning and the weather is everything springtime in Paris claims to be. A pale sun, longinglyg basks the pale skin of the Parisian people. The breeze is cool with a tease of warmth. Yellow roses in public gardens and red geraniums in window sill pots ostentiously display their finery throughout the city. Raghu's apartment is in the 8th arrondisement. The 138 sq ft apartment is on the top floor. The 6th floor and no elevator. Whoa. The main window faces a courtyard where horses once were tethered. When I look out the window, it is unknown to me what decade, let alone what century I'm observing. I look out at hundreds of chimneys. Copper, Terra cotta, sheet metal, and clay. New and ancient. All different shapes and sizes for as far as the eye can see. All ceremoniously surrounding the nearby black roofed cupola with two glorious windows, and oxidized copper gutters. The filagre below the dome is fringed with leaves, grapes, and flowers. There is a large blank tan stucco wall just begging for a mural or at least the hand of some industrious graffitti artist. A marvelous setting for a grand wine tasting adventure.

Remember enjoy and imbibe.