It's a damp and rainy Saturday here in the Wisconsin hinterlands. A good time for puttering around the kitchen!
I've got a soy candle burning away on a side cupboard, infusing my kitchen with a deep spicy aroma. I'm ready to work.
I really planned to take a long walk today to immerse myself in the sights and smells of early fall. Although the older, less healthy trees are losing their leaves, most of our trees are still green. But that rich wine-y aroma of fall is in the air. And it could clear up. . .
We walked a lot in the rain in Paris, feeling a bit like the couple in that Gustave Caillebotte painting. Couples of all sorts are what you see on a walk in Paris, but I was especially intrigued with the older couples, those in their 60s or 70s who walked together in such practiced rhythym. I snapped a few discreet photos, but mostly I made up little stories in my head.
See those two crossing the Seine from the Right Bank to the 13th Arrondissement? Academics, she a bit younger than he. The social sciences, I think, not the humanities.
We saw a couple in the Jardin des Halles. They were Germans, I decided. A retired merchant and his wife, she an expert housekeeper who - in the words of Grandma Annie - wants everything "just so."
The couple strolling in the Jardin de Plantes (above) were the most stately. Surely he was someone important! She, too, I think. They both walked with purpose and confidence. Botanists, perhaps?
On Avenue Rapp, an older man helped his blind wife into a car, a small dog nipping at his heels. They, too, had a story, a love story.
The older couples touched me more than the younger ones. It was their history - their imagined history, in this case - that piqued my interest.
I could only speculate, of course. But oh, the stories I wove!