ParisSometimes, I love messing around with description:

Paris at night is intoxicating. And Paris at night in the fall; mesmerizing.

Simply calling something the City of Lights is one thing, but seeing it, immersing yourself in it is another thing. Lights abound and wrap the whole of the city with a hum of excitement. Every bar, café, night club stirs with life. The Seine reflects the sparkling bits of light as they give a graceful twirl and wink and then disappear into the murky waters.

The Eiffel Tower stretches her long neck further into the sky when lit and every hour she shimmers with blinking lights, turning the fair beauty into a sparkler at the center of an abundantly lit cake.

The enormity of the history spotlighted in the darkness inspires poetry; it itches for the average person to become something greater. Simple moments dissipate like laughter in the air and add their mark on history of this fair city. Every group of fashionably clad women drifting down famous streets, every set of lovers that sit drowning in each other’s gazes, and every local that emanates their world class “je ne sais quoi” is a piece of art.

This land where bourgeois and bohemian attitudes collide to create ever evolving art that rests on the shoulders of those that came before them hovers in soften glow just beyond the famous lights.

A person could get lost in the mists of it all.