I have two loves

Josephine Baker, she of the banana bikini, sang "J'ai deux amours, mon pays et Paris", and I can well understand her. Each time I come to Paris I fall in love with it again, and this time is no exeption.
It is summer, but the heat wave is over. The weather is warm, half the city is on holiday and it is still light until 9 at night.
Not everyone finds it but there is a magic in Paris, if you look for it. It is not easy, and it is not on the surface. The surface is beautiful, that is certain - particularly if you wander past the Pyramid de Louvre at night or across the Pont des Arts at sunset.
But the magic I'm talking about is in hidden places, in the glances of strangers, in an ancient doorway, or a tiny garden almost hidden under a stair well, in Arab cafes where people sip mint tea and play music from their homelands, in the bustle of the African markets of Belleville, in the eyes of lovers leaning against a scooter and kissing.
It is the magic of life, finding cul de sacs and new paths, chaotic and ever changing. Paris is not a museum as many seem to think, but a living thing, subject to the forces of entropy and creativity. It is a melancholy, unruly, beautiful dance, and I'm just finding my feet again...