Paris in December: a city renewed

I jog in the early, cold morning through the Louvre’s Cour Carrée, empty and
almost silvery in the December light. I leave it behind me to run on the
Pont des Arts – and then more slowly on the banks of the Seine, on the Île
de la Cité, running on cobbled streets, the river on my right, the most
beautiful, majestic hôtels particuliers on my left, the bare trees, stark in
the purest first rays of a white, freezing sun.

Ending the run in Place des Vosges, stopping to catch my breath at the centre
of the Square, I am almost surprised – even despite the thousand times I
have already seen it – by the perfect harmony of the genius architecture.

There is a wonderful sense of melancholy, stillness and peace in a Parisian

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