We woke up to your dreariness on our last day in paris. And while
the white covers of our warm bed begged us to stay,
there was just one more thing I really wanted to do before we left the city of lights.
I knew a thousand other people would be doing the same thing, and that we probably wouldn't be able to get in even one decent picture, but I knew I'd regret it if we didn't at least try.
Your morning drizzle was hardly noticeable until it transformed into an afternoon downpour as we got on the bus to our destination. I tried to think of you as romantic ("paris in the rain" swoon), but inwardly I scowled, wishing you would have come the day after, when we would be gone. The usually crowded streets emptied- tourists and locals dodging into shops and cafes to avoid you.
When we got off of the bus, you were still determined. It was cold, and so wet. My feet and lower legs were completely drenched; I might as well have been playing in a splash park in february. But after we got off, and began walking the 2 minute journey to the bridge, we realized your downpour had dissolved into a much friendlier sprinkle.
You had softened, but the normal crowds had completely vanished.
With the exception of maybe 2 or 3 couples, the bridge was exclusively ours.
I like to think that you brought yourself just for us, rain. That you intentionally came on our last day in a heavy downpour so that for just a few minutes, we could create memories that would last the rest of our lives with a small amount of privacy.
I know the love lock bridge is a tourist trap, and the notion of a rainy day in paris probably sounds horribly cliche and overly romantic to a lot of people.
But I'll never forget it as long as I live.
And I think it was you that made it the perfect day, rain. (Well, you and the fact that we were in paris…)
So thank you.
ps- here's a link to a short video I made of our time on the bridge friends. xo