La Joie de Vivre

I had seen photos and listened to stories about what it would be like to visit such an enchanting country where not only did one of my favorite novelists, Gustave Flaubert, would write but also where my favorite philosopher Rousseau spent the remainder of his days. Despite all of this, nothing prepared me for the natural wonder that lay before my eyes upon my arrival one hot summer morning.

There I was; a precocious and young girl exposed to the wonders of renaissance and the byproduct of dozens of civilizations. Something in the air filled my nostrils with joy; perhaps it was the waft of macaroons emerging from a small cobblestone cafe or maybe it was the fresh scent of ocean spray the winds had managed to carry far enough to reach me. During the day, I was in the south driving through the countryside on gravel roadways alongside a brilliant array of flowers sprawled across acres of land, and by night I found myself in the north atop La Rivière Seine on a bridge illuminated by wrought iron lamps and surrounded by dozens of love-struck couples.

It was rather enticing to be thrust into a wide abyss of uncertainty. A series of questions raced through my mind as I sat alone at a patio planning my itinerary for the next day: Will I be swept off my feet by someone with an exquisite phenotype and a beautiful accent? Will I be made fun of for my horrible accent? The still hum of a city cafe was the only thing that felt familiar amid my presence in this foreign land. The throng of the country's most populous city was now minimal, and thus I left the cafe and embarked on a little stroll. That's when it happened.

It started with premature ventricular contractions, immobility, and ended with an overwhelmingly strong desire to pull out my smart-phone and take a selfie with a large background shot to capture all its glory. Right before my eyes, I saw heaven- or what many people would refer to as the Eiffel Tower at night. It was the epitome of la joie de vivre and I was more smitten than I was ten years prior when my first elementary school crush made me an origami swan. The way it lit up the night sky provided me with a sense of hope and comfort. It was a prime example that sometimes what glitters is in fact gold.