Mature Flâneur
The Last Fall Colors of Paris
…transform a bleak mood
I returned to Paris last week, still feeling bruised by the US election. I had volunteered for the Harris campaign in Pennsylvania in the month leading up to Nov 5., and I was so relieved that Teresa my beloved spouse and I were at last able to resume our carefree life as flâneurs in Paris. Flâneur is a most delightful French word that means to wander about without specific purpose, just observing the world.
Relieved, yes. But I still felt a lump of dread in the pit of my stomach like an undigested rotten sausage.
The weather was grey and rainy — not surprising for mid-November in Paris, but not really conducive to long walks or for lifting one’s mood. Teresa, however, needed some replacement light bulbs. So one afternoon last week, a trip to the hardware store was mandatory. The rain was not stopping, so finally, I just said fuck it, and headed out into the drizzle.
The route to the hardware store lay along one of my favorite walks, the Coulée Vert, or “Greenway.” It’s a disused tram line that has been repurposed and replanted as an urban garden path — if you…
