The weather has unexpectedly avoided all signs of the much-predicted rain and instead given Paris deep blue skies and much warmer temperatures. I brought only long sleeved shirts, expecting cooler weather and wishing to be less 'touristy', but with my photography vest (in which I carry various lenses, wallet safely zipped up inside, etc.) and heavy camera packpack, it is plenty warm. Today (Sunday) may verge on being hot.
Yesterday (Saturday) Janice worked morning and afternoon in the library. She feels she now has some momentum which will carry her well through our remaining time here. She then likes to do a bit of gardening in the early evening while I make part of supper, usually everything but the salad. My day began with a trip back to the best local market to get the usual items for the weekend meals (sauerkraut, those unbelievably delicious sausages, excellent Elstar apples). After returning and putting things away, I packed the camera bag and set off for St Suplice, a beautiful old church near the métro St Suplice. The trip required three trains, but from door-to-door, it was 50 minutes, which gave me some reading time on the trains. I am nearly finished reading Neal Blough's most recent book, Mennonites d'hier et d'aujourd'hui (literally, Mennonites yesterday and today), a very readable summary of the movement. I also finished reading Loving Frank which is about Frank Lloyd Wright, sort of historical fiction.
When I arrived at St Suplice, it is clearly a church of the 1600s and 1700s, complete with those Greek columes which had been in vogue at the time. This photo was taken on the front porch looking at a side door rather than the main front doors.
But more impressive to me was seeing that it looked nearly full of people at church for a Saturday noon Mass. Rather later, I realized that this was most likely an early Pentecost Mass, one in which children take their first communion. Everybody seemed well dressed (except me), girls often wore white (if not as in Italian movies), boys suits. I suppose they were 12 but can no longer estimate ages at that level. I was also impressed that everybody sang along, on cue and more or less on pitch (unison).
There had been various opportunities for applause, which puzzled me until I learned that none other than the bishop himself was presiding, complete with miter and red cloak (red being the colour for Pentecost 'fire').
The organist played a Bach toccata for the postlude, but there were so many people talking that the organ sounded rather faint, which surprised me. I wish I knew how many people had attended that Mass. My initial sense was 1,000, for the structure seems large and was nearly filled with chairs everywhere one had a line of vision to the altar/pulpit, but my guess could be inflated by several hundred souls. Anyway, it was the sort of turnout that would please any concert organizer. In about 15 minutes, the church was emptied and I could walk around, gawking and shooting to my heart's content. One scene fascinated me, a bit of light streaming through an oculus (eye, but you knew that) in the ceiling over the back of the ambulatory going around the choir. In the Parisian haze/dust, I could just see the shaft of light itself, so I tried photographing it. When I get home, I look forward to playing around with this shot.
Just a few more pictures, for flavour:
I was afraid that the church would be closed from 1-3:30, as my guide to Paris indicated, but that book is more than 20 years old and the church remained open. Anyway, fear it might close, I kept shooting and by 2:15 realized I had missed lunch, so I decided to go home and just have an apple to tide me over till dinner. But on the way home, the smell of the fresh baguette I bought for dinner was impossible to ignore, so I munched on the bread on the way home, imagining that is what one ought to be doing in France.
After an apple and a short rest for my legs, I helped Janice remove dead lilac blossoms, trim out some dead wood from the old bush (it was mature when we first saw it in 1988) and clean up the mess. Then we joined Neal and Janie for a quiet pre-dinner chat on the patio under the rose arbor (the old-fashioned roses actually have scent and are truly glorious this week). After an hour, we went our separate ways to feast on leftovers. I was quite tired, possibly coming down with a cold, so I turned in at 9:30 to read for an hour. The long night did me good, and I seem to be ready for another interesting day. We decided not to go to church today with Neal and Janie, feeling a tad guilty about it, but their day is going to extra long and would require me to attempt to converse with people from all kinds of countries in French. I just lost one of my hearing aids, about which I will blog later, and am not getting quite all the information I need if I am to understand what is being said when people speak quickly, quietly or turn their heads away from me. Instead, we will visit a special small museum known for its garden (Janice) and photography exhibits (moi).
With love from us both, Evan
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