It seems generally warmer this December in Paris than I am used to. Tonight, however, is different. It's quite cold and windy. Just the right kind of night for stroll along the Seine and perhaps a few minutes spent on Passerelle des Arts. This foot bridge over the Seine is, to me, one of the most romantic spots in Paris. It links art and literature, two features that make Paris a special place in the world. At one end of the bridge is Académie française, home of a learned body on matters that pertain to the French language. It is hard to overstate the obsession the French exhibit on matters of language. I have seen perfect strangers correct each other's grammar! On the other end of the bridge is the Louvre, home for many of the great pieces of art created by man. As I stand on the bridge I see a scene that reminds me of an opera stage set. The lighting is dramatic and there are two men, there on the quai, one could almost image sitting in the audience waiting for them to sing. Then I begin to think, think about the objectivity and subjectivity of Paris and how each of us creates our own subjective version from the same objective elements. There is another bridge here, one between me and my comfortable apartment and those two men on the quai. I'm pretty sure they plan on sleeping there tonight, something I can barely imagine in this cold. And just up river a bit, there are people dinning at Tour D'Argent where a side plate of asparagus costs more than I will spend on my dinner tonight. Two ends of a bridge where I stand in the middle, perhaps not understanding the Paris that others live in.