Even better, the snow was still there this morning. Baby Oil has never experienced snow before, since last year we didn't get any here, and he definitely doesn't remember the few small dustings of snow that occurred every few days for the first three weeks of his life (perils of a January baby - oh right, now I'm waiting on another January baby).
As with most everything about Paris, there is something especially magical about the transformation of this city in the snow. The elegant, regal beauty of the buildings and parks that has become a humdrum everyday sight is refreshed; the quiet grace of fallen snow could not ask for a better backdrop than Paris.
|The entrance to Parc Monceau|
We headed to Parc Monceau - always and forever the most beautiful park in Paris, in my opinion - to teach Baby Oil about snowballs and see how Parisians deal with snow. While not a regular winter occurrence, it is not uncommon enough that buildings and businesses are not equipped with shovels and other snow-related tools. Most surprising, though, was that the four-plus inches of snow in the park had not deterred the runners. The snow was already packed down on the main running loop by 9:30am, and while personally I always choose to use inclement weather as a reason not to exercise (though who I am kidding, I have not exercised since we moved to France), the Parisian joggers seemed unperturbed by the new turf.
Also, some of them missed the memo about weather-appropriate running gear.
|Pardon, Monsieur, but really - shorts?|
Nothing specifically riveting happened today, and no cultural understandings were fostered. We played in the snow - it was gorgeous and fun!