I’m back in Paris, but only for a couple of weeks.
So sad, I know. I’m staying in the 6th arrondisement, which puts me near Pont des Arts. I’ve crossed this wonerfully whimsical bridge both today and yesterday, on my way to Le Louvre.
Couples write their names and the date on locks and attach it to the bridge. If theirs happens to be a key lock rather than a combination lock, they toss the key into the Seine.
Then their love will never die.
I wonder if a single woman in Paris can do this?
It’s such a romantic gesture.
But something has accured to me.
What if a romance ends and you put your name on another lock with another lover?
Then another…and another.
I wonder how many of the current locks belong to hopeless romantics who never give up hope.
I should investigate, but I won’t.
I’d rather hope to be so lucky.
just the crust 