Monday, January 24, 2011
When I was a sophomore in college in Rhode Island, I had a roommate from Hawaii. Despite having already spent a year in New England and thus presumably experienced in how to deal with cold weather, she could somehow never shake her childhood assumption that blue skies meant a perfect day for the beach. On a January day, when the temperatures were frigid and a stiff wind was blowing out of the north, she would look out the window, see a crystal clear blue sky, and put on her flip flops.
When winter skies are blue in Paris, I'm never tempted to wear sandals. Still, it is such a rare occurence that one really must take notice.