Sometimes, even in the face of incredible beauty you can become so involved with yourself that the beauty fades from view, you walk through it unaware. If you have ever ignored a pretty girl you know to what lengths she will go to get your attention back. Paris is like that. One morning, on a mission to find the perfect book at Gibert Joseph, engrossed in my own thoughts as I walked along rue de la Bûcherie, I looked up to see this extraordinary scene. I didn't see it evolve, I just stumbled into it.
Simone de Beauvoir once lived on this street, in fact pretty much right here. I should have been paying attention and the fact that I have walked this street hundreds of times is no excuse. There were voices to hear and details to contemplate. This is a narrow street with little room. I don't know how the ladder got here or why the cat needed rescuing or if was me that needed rescuing from sleep walking in such a place. There were no trucks in sight to explain the ladder, the men doing the rescuing were not in any official capacity, and the cat didn't look happy. Paris had once again grabbed me and pulled me to her, “Don't you dare ignore me!” she said.
I vowed never again to avert my gaze into this city with all of her charms and beauty knowing fully that I would do it again and that Paris would find some way to catch me and pull me back into the scene.