Walking through the Tuileries Garden, I thought I might try to take some photos of all the fascinating sculptures hiding amongst the decorative hedges. I’ve wanted to do this for some time now, and then research who all these beautiful women – some stoic, some experiencing quite heightened emotion (!) – really are. They were forgotten quickly, however, because the western horizon suddenly demanded all of my attention. Before my eyes, there emerged a glowing ombré sky, suffused with corals and pinks and oranges. Like French bees (abeille) to lavendar flowers, swarms of us were absolutely magnetized to move in the direction of that view. As I waited to see if that vibrant orb might frame itself inside the Arc de Triomphe (alas, no, but still it shone and gleamed irrepressibly), a young, female violinist played a gently fitting tribute to the end of another Parisian day.