After spending a nocturne at the Louvre one Friday night, I stepped outside to find a lusciously full moon. I am a firm believer that a full moon brings out wildness and inhibition, and this night was no exception. I felt full of an almost manic energy in the moonlight.
As I made my way on foot to the Left Bank, I crossed the Seine on the Pont du Carrousel. All of a sudden, I had one of those moments where I was struck by how beautiful Paris is. The buildings were lit impeccably, and the water sparkled like gold. I melted.
During my time in Paris, I've always studied or worked on the Right Bank and lived on the Left Bank. Forging the river is a daily routine. It does my heart such good to be in proximity to a body of water in the midst of urban life. Crossing the Seine is a moment of escape.
And I love the Pont du Carrousel, the bridge that connects the Louvre to the 6th and 7th arrondissements. When I was a student at the École du Louvre, I would cross it every day to get to school. I experienced extreme emotions on this bridge: excitement on my way to my first class, dread as I rushed to my final exams, elation after a successful meeting with an advisor... The enormous stone women on either end of the bridge became my de facto cheerleaders and therapists.
The day when crossing the Seine is no longer magical is the day I need to leave Paris.