The Dichotomy of Place

Creative Fortnight in Paris #32

My favorite mural down on the boulevard Beaumarchais. Drawing by Sempé.

The sky looked like rough watercolor paper on which light blue, peach, blush, and grey blended together, surrendering to be the backdrop of some epic scene—or perhaps just a minor scene in an epically beautiful story. It was four minutes past 6 p.m., and it was still daylight. Longer days usually surprise me somewhere at the end of May, but this year, I am making an effort to observe nature around me more closely.

While everyone rejoices in the longer summer days later in the year, I find myself annoyed that my mind thinks it’s 7 p.m. when, in reality, it’s already 9:30. After more than ten years of this mind warp, I have become a part of it. Both warp and mind.

This morning, I heard a bird singing in the distance. I searched for it using a phone app I downloaded years ago, letting it listen and decode the sound. Even before the name and Carl Linnaeus’ classification appeared on my screen, I assumed it was a common …