I am accustomed to visiting the Jardin du Luxembourg in the grey morning mists. On a good day I'm there early, even before they open the gates and let the few dozen joggers (or walkers, like me) into the the gardens. It's an enchanting, meditative place on weekday mornings.
Imagine my surprise when I headed there Saturday afternoon for a leisurely stroll. I felt as though I were trespassing inside a "Where's Waldo?" book.
My initial reaction: if there are so many people here today, who on earth were in all those cars jamming the roads for the ritual Friday afternoon exodus from the city? I can't do the math on that enigma.
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