La neige sur Paris

Paris can sometimes be a very magical place. The buildings are sometimes centuries old, so old in fact that the stone is still black from the soot of the industrial era and cole-burning chimneys. Famous authors, politicians, and actors have called this place home, only to be buried underneath Parisian ground. You can sometimes still feel their Paris of yesteryear as you walk through Les Halles (probably the oldest neighborhood in the center of Paris).  And for some reason, Paris holds a very real romance, more so than that of other cities I've been to. I don't know whether it's the wine, the language, or the Seine running through the city, but something in Paris inspires even the most prudish of American tourists to s'embrasser (sem-brah-say: kiss each other) out in the open in such an openly stated PDA that it makes even full-blooded Parisians blush.

I think, though, that this past Friday I saw one of the most magical elements of Paris take place: la neige sur Paris (lah nay-j: snowfall on Paris). For a mere 15 minutes of pure and silent awe, I watched from my bedroom window as a blizzard engulfed the city, leaving almost as soon as it arrived. I know I'm a coastal California girl and am therefore amazed by even a single snowflake because I've experienced so few of them (though, after spending a year in les Alpes snow has admittedly lost some of its luster), but even Parisians seem to be paralyzed with wonder by the first snowfall of the year in their glocally-celebrated town. Seeing the old stone buildings, sidewalks, and trees covered in Christmas lights beign lightly brushed with snow brings a whole new element of beauty to the French capitale (kap-ee-tahl: capital).

Of course, winter in Paris isn't all fun and games. From what I hear, snow may come and go in Paris but the cold hangs around forever. And it really gets cold here! The kind of chilly, biting, unforgiving cold that forces people to stay indoors and become depressed from lack of sunlight and feeling in their toes. Luckily, though, the French have come up with a few key ways of fighting off the winter blues: vin chaud (von show: mulled wine), twinkle lights along les Champs Elysées (lay shamp el-ee-zay: an iconic shopping district in Paris), and a truly devoted love affair to l'echarpe (luh-sharp: scarf). Christmastime in Paris, show me your worst!