As I write this, it's still dark in Paris, the sun not slated to make an appearance until almost nine. And for the second time this week, a light snow is falling. I failed to take a picture on Friday of the snow that had settled on the geraniums in our window boxes, an image that didn't register at first as all that unusual until I recalled that back in Washington, you bought geraniums in the spring and then pulled them out in late fall while putting the garden to bed. Here our building leaches so much heat that the flowers seem to thrive despite the ambient temperature; our recent absence of 10 days seemed to make no difference to them. But after a couple of days where the temps have scarcely reached above freezing, I thought it best to cover them up. So no picture of snow dusted geraniums.
I don't know if there is such a concept as a snow day in Paris. My kids don't go back to school until tomorrow so we've no need to glue ourselves to the tube to find out about closings. My bet is that this light dusting will turn to drizzle soon enough. In the meantime, we're enjoying the view and our favorite snow day song.
P.S. The view from here some two hours later; it's still just a dusting.