It's Paris, Only Grayer

I'm trying to remember the last time I saw the sun.  It probably wasn't more than a week ago but the gray which has descended upon Paris is playing tricks with my mind.  It's barely light at 9 in the morning and my kids are coming home from school in the dark.  The damp cold seeps through the layers of sweaters, scarves, and coats.  What little snow fell over the weekend is just a puddle.   Nothing seems quite in focus; I could swear that the mist in the atmosphere has infiltrated my brain.  Somehow walking across Paris, which in warm weather is a question of "why not," is now a question of "why bother." 

My list of holiday season errands is long.  Fortunately, trips to the dry cleaner and market, shopping for gifts, baking for teachers, volunteering at the kids' school, and travel planning are punctuated by loftier pursuits like yesterday's visit to the Louvre to discover portraiture from the Middle Ages to the early 19th century.  I did tune out the guide a bit, however,  when lured to gaze out the window at the scene above.  The dye in the fountain is presumably "art" although I can't say who the artist is or what his or her purpose might be.  The rest of Paris is hiding in the low clouds; you can just make the Ferris wheel in Place de la Concorde, the roof of the Grand Palais, the Arc de Triomphe, the lonely skyscraper at Porte Maillot, and even the fuzzy outlines of La Defense in the distance.  (Click on the picture if you want a closer view.)