Sunday in Lagarde is like every other day really, except that it's deathly quiet apart from the quarter hourly reminder from the church steeple.
If it's possible to imagine a deserted street as even more deserted, then it's possible to imagine Sunday morning. By lunchtime, which on a normal day is a fairly long time, but on a Sunday tends to go on until early Monday, if one dares to be conspicuous one can take a stroll through the village, just to listen to the stillness.
It's a special stillness though, for if one pays attention there is sound permeating the place, a gentle sound of family and friendship, of meals not begun and others midway through. Now that I think about it, it is very much like walking through the suburbs at home about mid day on Christmas day, perhaps that's part of the reason we identify so strongly with the feeling.
Every day is Christmas Day in Lagarde!
And once one ventures a few hundred metres beyond the town, it all becomes quite, well.... pretty really. Does anyone have any idea why my sinuses are playing up?
3 comments
Here in the 7eme, I get a feeling that I have returned to the era of my childhood. My street, which bustles quite nicely every other day, on a Sunday is still and quiet. The shops are shut. The people stop walking. Hard to know which came first.
I walk 500m down rue Grenelle in the direction of rue Bac and everything suddenly bustles into 2011 with shops open and people consuming.
Just not in rue Bourgogne ...
My word verification is 'diminess' ... now work THAT into your next title!!
That feeling of turning back the clock is one that we have often on a Sunday, only the new Holdens are missing from the driveways.
Diminess? Surely the word from which dim sim is contracted? ;-)
Sounds and looks idyllic. Can't think why you have sinus it is all a bit yellow.
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