There are those who hate, and those who love. Love of life, love of family, love of freedom. When those who hate try to extinguish the light of those who love, turmoil descends. Through terror the brave cower, receding into shields made of hate. The hate spreads.
Niece was terrorized not even a month before we visited the town. We thought Nice would be empty and cold, lost by the dread created through terror. Instead, what we saw was hope.
Nice was full of life, not dread! Beaches and markets are crowed by people laughing and enjoying the warmth gifted from French Rivera.
“Liberté” they cry.
“Freedom” I yell in solidarity.
When destruction falls upon your towns, do not hide. Do not build walls for fear is how terrorists arrest their victims. Break your shackles of fear and fight for your freedom; stand with stoic resolve. Because bravery is not always displayed with Arms.
I chose not to photograph the Nice Promenade for respect of the dead.