I was a ‘‘veilleur de Paris’’ for the sunset over Paris on April Fool’s. The expe­rience was pea­ce­ful, with a warm sun, wispy clouds, birds flying by and now and again, a strong gust of wind. The expe­rience was intri­guing, I felt like James Stewart in Rear Window, but higher up in the sky, the players in this eve­ning’s Parisian thea­tre were small grey figu­res, bike riding along rue de Charenton or wal­king two by two on la Coulée Verte. The expe­rience was tech­ni­co­lor, the sun bright at first, the sky smurf-blue, the Hausmannian buil­dings white, their roof bright grey. The the deep sunset colors set in, and all the red chim­neys popped into view, with their sil­very covers glin­ting in the eve­ning light, like hun­dreds of little metal­lic-capped mush­rooms. The city became a mass of dark blue, blen­ding with the sky, just barely any lights on inside the thou­sands of homes below me. The church domes, Eiffel, Sacré Cœur and the gare de Lyon bell tower dot on the hori­zon.
Bonsoir Paris ♡
Merci