Time has accelerated as it's dwindled---six weeks left, more or less. We marked the end of the school year and the birthdays of three friends with a trip to the Parc Buttes Chaumont, near Belleville in the northeast of Paris. The weather was glorious--- more dry California sunshine than heavy Paris warmth---and the setting could not have been more beautiful or unexpected. The park is characterized by rocky outcroppings, steep hills with winding paths, shady groves, caves and brooks and waterfalls. Ascend one path and large swathes of Paris open up to view. Follow another and find yourself skirting a clear babbling brook, tempted to get your feet wet. What a surprise, in the middle of a city of millions, to find such a refuge just a short walk from the metro stop.
There were about twenty of us there, Kate's three best friends from her year here (Roya, Thea, and Helena), along with many family members and some visiting friends of Roya's. We had fruits and cheeses and jams and meats and baguettes and, of course, birthday gateaux for Kate, Thea, and Roya, one chocolate and one strawberry. We were led by Thea's musician father in a higher-quality round of "Happy Birthday" than we're used to. There were hotly-contested badminton matches as well as gossiping, braiding, and general lazing on the grass. The day was so beautiful, the setting so stunning, and the conversation so relaxed and congenial, that no one even thought about shedding a tear at the imminent close of this chapter. (Or so I like to imagine.)
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