La Vie en Rose
After a long day of working on three different worship services and stealing away from the computer for a bit to dig in the dirt before the rain began, it was dusk and the thunderstorms had begun by the time I curled up on my bed with my laptop.
Opposite my bed are two windows that look out over the front lawn, which I opened to enjoy the sound of the storm. After much flashing and crashing, the storm finally eased out of town.
In its wake, it left the most extraordinary sky.
It was pink. Not the fierce pink that you find in a sunset. This was a subtler pink, a dusty rose.
With a backdrop of pink sky, the dogwood blossoms framed in my window were such a sight! It was a moment of pure bliss and I couldn’t find the will to look away.
The pink sky is gone now and the dogwood is little more than a silhouette against the night. But I am left remembering that pink sky and (not surprisingly) thinking of Paris, where the light is pink.
Lost in these thoughts, this quote from the remake of Sabrina (1995) came to mind:
Gertrude Stein said America is my country and Paris is my hometown. I’ll always feel that way about Paris. Across the street someone is playing La Vie En Rose. They do it for the tourists but I’m always surprised at how much it moves me. It means seeing life through rose-colored glasses. Only in Paris, where the light is pink, does that song make sense, but I’ll have it in my pocket when I get home, and carry it with me where ever I go.