Serendipity - it is just the word to begin the summer edition of this journal sentimental. Only, do the French even have a word for serendipity? Et oui!
"UN HEUREUX HASARD"
: serendipity, serendipitously
Mais, heureux hasard, au détour d'une rue bruxelloise, une affiche crayonnée fait de l'oeil au passant : "Discover the freedom of the bike", le genre d'impératif suggestif qui soudain vous fait entrevoir le monde autrement. - LeVif Weekend magazine.
Help translate today's sentence, here in the new comments box!
A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE... by Kristin Espinasse
On the second to last day in Paris, a kind of seize the day sentiment gripped me. Having visited so many leafy passages, an original coffee shop, and even a vineyard, I wondered about a high-tech visit chez Google - whose existence, it seemed, was in Montparnasse.... at the FNAC.
Only, a strange mood paralyzed me. How to describe it? My daughter said it best when she commented about how the metropolis of Paris sometimes made her feel: "Je me sens comme si je n'existe pas...." I feel like I don't existe.
Jackie's observation struck me as juste as I vaguely recalled the meaning of "existential": a cold and impersonal something ... leading to an urgency to truly be.
Grabbing my keys, I left our cozy appartment, one foot headed to Montparnasse, the other foot operating with its own sentimental compass. As I zigzagged down the street, seemingly invisible to the masses, I did not notice the trail ahead, which quietly formed itself, crumb by crumb, from the golden heel of serendipity....
(To be continued.)
A mysterious door in one of the many leafy passages I visited. This one, in Passage Gustave Lepeu.
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For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety