Saturday morning started off agreeably enough. I forgo the chores that were beckoning to me and skipped out to join friends for coffee in sunny Place Carnot. I use the word 'skipped' loosely but one couldn't help but feel uplifted by the marvellous weather. I trotted out my usual annoying tit bit of information that the market has a wonderful vibrancy at 8am (or earlier) and proceeded to wax lyrical of the gleaming glistening mounds of fresh wide eyed gaping fish piled high in Les Halles. Sumptuous cuts of meat lovingly labelled and wrapped for the many families and friends joined together for Easter. Cheeses galore in every shape, size and mellow colours vying for attention as people bustle with purpose clutching onto their woven baskets with worn leather straps or dangerously weave their trolleys past unsuspecting ankles.
By then it was time for me to depart and throw myself into work. I weaved my way through the crowds and as I passed the Musée des-Beaux-Arts I spied the solitary marble statue sitting quietly alone in the corner of the courtyard. He was sparsely covered in moss, the shadows of the gently stirring trees caressing him. No-one else was there and so I slipped in and went to see him close up.
I thought of an Easter message from a friend of mine. He said:
Happy Easter to all who celebrate this weekend! And to those who don't, just love life a little bit more.