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Time to slay your own dragons, ladies.

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My first kiss was an unwanted one. I was seven years old when a boy named David pushed me up against the wall outside our apartment building. Forcing his mouth on mine, his breath, hot and fusty, something sickly sweet like apple juice and milk gone sour in his gut that made me squirm. I don’t remember seeing him as I ran with my brother and the other neighborhood kids through the empty lot next door, scrabbling over the toppled trees, slick with moss, tripping over the bramble of twigs and woodsy decay, but he must have been there, his knees as scratched and muddied as ours, before he caught up with me in the driveway that ran alongside and behind the apartment building. 
As usual I’d tagged along in my older brother’s shadow. Tag, hide and seek, cowboys and indians, the games kids used to play. Outdoors, up and down the streets, no watchful mommies on red alert. Ignoring our mothers’ warnings—don’t go into the woods, don’t go into the woods—we went into the woods, woods that in fact …

Dreaming of France: Wedding Photos, Parisian-style

The day we went to see Notre Dame the line was on the longish side so I left my husband to hold our places while I snooped around a bit. He's lovely that way, letting me wander off to see if I spot anything interesting to snap.

 I found a bride and groom in a semi-quiet spot on the grounds, conferring with their photographer, his assistant holding a reflective aid (a bounce) in the background. Mid-May, the temperature in Paris was hovering in the low 60's and I wondered if the bride was cold in her frothy white strapless gown.

I watched from a discreet distance while the pair posed for the next shot, the pigeons pecking at the ground around them. She was probably too happy and excited to feel the chill. 

 A pretty picture for the photo album, especially with the way her dress sweeps off to the side but the couple seemed hesitant and I got the idea they were in transition. Something else was coming.

Suddenly they were holding hands and running right into the flock of birds, sending them fluttering into the air.

I really wish I could see the end result from the photographer's point of view. It must have been spectacular, a perfect snapshot of a couple in transition, from single life to married life, taking flight together.

May they live happily ever after.

Linking to Paulita's Dreaming of France meme.


Comments

  1. What sweet sentiments. I would have just assumed they were trying to get a picture of the birds flying rather than seeing the hidden metaphor for single to married life.
    Thanks for playing along with Dreaming of France. Here’s my Dreaming of France meme

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're probably right! I was probably reading too much into it.

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  2. What a serendipitous moment! I love the idea of running into the birds and sending them flying. Beautiful.

    http://readerbuzz.blogspot.com/2017/07/lets-go-to-paris-shall-we.html

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