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First I am far then I am near
Look quickly before I disappear
In a blink of your eye I am gone
Leaving naught behind but my song
Capture this moment and hold it dear
The time of my ending may be near
One be one disappear but who is next
Before all is gone you should be vexed
By Theadora Brack
“We’ll always have Paris,” Rick tells Elsa at the end of the movie Casablanca, without mentioning any of their favorite haunts in the City of Light. But I say, “Play it again, Sam,” and this time with addresses. After all, everyone’s got their own Paris.
For instance, King Henri IV cavorted on the tip of the Île de la Cité, while centuries later the Seine bridges crossing the island captivated painter Edward Hopper. Hemingway liked to sit on a bench in the Jardin du Luxembourg and wait for his first true sentences (along with dinner: roast pigeon), while the food stalls at the great Les Halles market sparked Julia Child’s joy of cooking.
Though I’m hardly a king or a master of French cooking (yet), I, too, have a few outdoor havens I run to for inspiration.
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