It was a cold December day in Paris. We had just been to the Le Jardin du Luxembourg and were walking towards the city centre…..
….. and there SHE was, sitting at a bench all on her own. She had a sleeveless flimsy dress that had ridden up slightly. Her legs were bare, her feet free of shoes, toes resting on the concrete pavement in a pointed almost ballerina fashion. It was as if she had high heeled shoes on that were invisible. There was an anklet on her right ankle. The large floppy hat that managed to hide her face partially at the same time providing her an escape from the passing by traffic gave her an aura of Parisian Bohemia. Thin strands of plaited hair rested on her chest between her arms bent at the elbows which rested on her lap culminating at two softly clenched fists cupping her chin and the sides of her cheeks. She looked as if she was lost in deep thought as she allowed her face to rest in the niche formed by her hands. Her eyes were hooded or maybe even closed.
I was captivated .She seemed so real. I was almost concerned that she was not dressed appropriately for the chilly December day. Was she taking a short pause? A catnap? Was she in thought? If so, what was she was thinking about? Was she waiting for someone? A lover perhaps? Well it was Paris after all…the city of love. …
A beautiful bronze street statue. One amongst the thousands on the streets of Paris. If you are ever in Paris make sure you see it. Unfortunately I didn’t note the exact location (searches on the internet proved fruitless) but it is somewhere in the vicinity of Fontaine Saint-Sulpice .