Paris, City of Light, is the color of a salmon's skin this early spring day, dark gray and bright silver. I'm slogging through the damp arcade of the Palais Royal in the unexpected chill.
A fine March mist, almost snow, waters the formal gardens of the courtyard. I'm wearing a pair of uncomfortable loafers that keep eating my socks. Stomping awkwardly on the damp flagstones, I pass a tiny shop selling old military decorations. I used to buy charms and souvenirs here, enamel lapel pins of intertwined French and American flags. Today I see the faded ribbons and oversized medals and imagine a line of impoverished veterans, surrendering evidence of their honor, pawning their long-past heroism to buy a baguette and a glass of red. Le revers de la médaille, the flip side of glory.
A glint of sun and the scene changes; still cold, but suddently radiant, exhilarating. Off to lunch!
Posted by Ronald Holden at March 22, 2007 3:50 AM