Community

Pont Vieux--Where is the accordion player?

It has been in the mid to upper 50's today here in Carcassonne.  All of the city, including me, are taking advantage of the nice weather.  After working and running errands I took myself off to the banks of the Aude to soak up the sunshine and watch people. 

There were shiny new bikes, probably gifts from Pere Noel, whizzing by on the graveled path.  One shiny pink one was ridden by a little dark-haired girl under Papa's close supervision. His face was lit from within by his pride in her accomplishment.  Joggers bounced by, and dogs sniffed and leapt and investigated all those who'd been by earlier.  Couples strolled by, arm in arm.  Younger people actually ventured out without coats.  Liberation!  

The quintessential French couple

Ducks line the banks of the Aude

I sat and watched the ducks.   I am glad that the city fathers have left the banks of the Aude wild and natural, rather than bricked up on both sides as is the Seine in Paris.  The ducks enjoyed practicing take-offs and landings followed by noisy splashy baths. 

Before heading to the river, I spent some time in the Grain d'Sel, my library, and realized that I am part of that community.  There is a gentleman who comes there every afternoon, sometimes wearing a suit and tie, but at the very least, wears a suit jacket, sits two seats away from me and reads the paper, while I write.  We have a nodding acquaintance.  My poet is back, after being on vacation and when I asked him today if he'd read any good poetry, he blushed slightly and replied that indeed he had.  Then, first in French and then in English, he said to me, "You are getting better.  Every day you improve."  Can I tell you how my heart took wings at his encouraging words?  I realize that we are a community of people who love words, who love the printed pages and the bliss of being immersed in them.  Our language differences may present some difficulties in becoming connected, but our love of language is a strong enough foundation on which to build our community, a community that includes me.  

This view makes my heart hurt; it's that lovely

As I sat there, watching the ducks and the people, I could hear accordion music wafting over from the Pont Vieux.  I have seen that guy there before. He perches on one of the round seats and plays, without even a cap for people to toss coins into. He doesn't play for money; I think he plays because his heart is too full and he has to play or his heart might burst. I know that feeling.  When I look up and see the view in the photo above, my heart, too, feels like it is going to burst.  The smell of tobacco coming on the breeze, the accordion's longings and this sight, this incredible sight, all combine to bring home the fact...I am in France.  I am part of a community--in France.