I would say that my favorite spot of time memory would be Richard Wilbur’s Love Calls Us to the Things of This World. When the eyes open to the cry of pulleys, and the body is between dream and waking, that’s the magical moment when angels appear and despite the dread of the day, the soul resolves to accept the body and go on about its business.
Ah, to have been that young, to be that alive, and in Paris, what grand fun.
Having the first croissant that I enjoyed, on the isle of Morea, and coffee in the morning, with wonderful greenery and sea views. Ah yes, I remember it well.
This is so vivid that it has me in tears. I just had a similar moment at the Café du Monde in New Orleans -- no greenery like scenery but café au lait and beignets!
I would say that my favorite spot of time memory would be Richard Wilbur’s Love Calls Us to the Things of This World. When the eyes open to the cry of pulleys, and the body is between dream and waking, that’s the magical moment when angels appear and despite the dread of the day, the soul resolves to accept the body and go on about its business.
Ah, to have been that young, to be that alive, and in Paris, what grand fun.
Having the first croissant that I enjoyed, on the isle of Morea, and coffee in the morning, with wonderful greenery and sea views. Ah yes, I remember it well.
Hi Jody. That was from me -- Claudia's sister Stephanie. I didn't even realize as I was writing it that "café au lait" rhymes with "beignet!"
A lover of Paris, how could I help loving this?
This is so vivid that it has me in tears. I just had a similar moment at the Café du Monde in New Orleans -- no greenery like scenery but café au lait and beignets!
Moments of grace?