The notes of Roberta Flack's masterpiece floated up to Pont de Notre Dame...
Killing me softly with this song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song
During my time in Cinque Terra, as I made my way to the various ports for a swim, I noticed that every place had a morning heartbeat, an undercurrent to the more prominent narrative. There, early in the wee hours, it was the sound of cleaning, of preparing for day's influx of zealous tourists, the sound of awnings opening, and the swish of the street sweeping trucks.
Late night in Paris also has its own rhythm. The sirens of an ambulance crescendos as it speeds by and then just as quickly, it is no longer. A few horns, and the chatter en-mass at the outdoor bistros overfilled with patrons on this warm evening. Killing Me Softly floating by. It was unexpected and somehow, perfect.
A few minutes later, as if on cue, and as it does for 2 minutes on the hour, the Eiffel Tower sparkled of starlight and nostalgia. For whom does she put her shimmery dress? What secrets does she have?
As I walked home, I smiled knowing the girls had been having quite the adventures lately. They revelled at a picnic by the Seine complete with fireworks and champagne for Bastille day. They were swept up in collective euphoria as France became the soccer world champions. The last time they won was 20 years ago when I was in a faraway land with no idea where life would take me. Then the girls watched the spectacle, sang along and shook what their mama gave them at the Jay-Z and Beyoncé On the Run II tour.
It would have made OutKast proud:
Shake it like a Polaroid picture! Hey ya! Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it Shake it, shake it, shake it, suga! Shake it like a Polaroid picture! Now all the Beyonce's, and Lucy Lu's, and baby dolls Get on tha floor get on tha floor! Shake it like a Polaroid picture!