Paris… there she was with a golden haze.
The golden leaves, a warm contrast against the traditional greige of Paris.
The lights in the apartment buildings reflected the turning leaves… I wondered about the Parisians in those cosy bolt holes.
The stories those homes could tell… I wanted a magic zoom… one that could take me far beyond the exteriors.
The glowing tip of the Luxor Obelisk shined brightly against the messy sky.
The Eiffel Tower rose high above the Grand Palais and the Christmas market at the bottom of the Champs Élysées.
And the Ferris Wheel continued to turn in every colour.
Paris is never constant, never the same… and yes… she is often pink… but not all the time… xv
