Living to Tell About It

A cycad, blue sky, fluffy white cloud, bright sun, must be a tropical island! But no, it is Northern France, and as I take this photo, I am lying on the steps in front of Metz Gare, enjoying the warmth and the light.

In front of me, the summer plant display is a mix of ornamentals and edibles: echinacea; dahlias; salvias; rosemarinus; basilicum; tomatoes; squash; and legumes. The city gardeners are tending the display, fixing planter boxes, deadheading, pruning. I like the rotating plant displays. In California, public spaces tend to have permanent, low-maintenance plantings, which can be boring after awhile. Granted, taxes are higher in France, but...



Last night, I headed out in search of a klezmer concert. I must have misread the flyer, or missed it (as usual, I was late). Probably a good thing, as I am not a huge klezmer fan, I just wanted something to do! But I made it to a hill I discovered early on (I photographed it, but the light settings on my camera were wrong that day). There is a terraced garden there, the Jardin des Tanneurs, and that area was occupied by tanners until the Middle Ages (a branch of the Seille used to meander through). I hoped to re-photograph it, but a man lurking on a set of stairs started to walk in pace with me, staring. I think he was looking for drugs. I stared back. Hard. And he left. I did manage a few shots of the Quartier des Allemands from one of the terraces, though. It is an interesting mix of buildings.

I walked towards home, and a block from Metz Gare, a car slowed down. A man asked directions to some square I'd never heard of. Since it is a red light area, I assumed he was looking for something I wasn't about to give him, so I said, "desolée, je ne la connais pas, je suis americaine, je ne suis pas de Metz! (sorry, not familiar with it, I'm American & not from Metz," and continued on my way.

Several blocks later, a car slowed down. I was getting annoyed. It was the same guy! He asked if I would have a drink with him. "I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend." He was undeterred. So ... we had drinks and pizza, and when I told him I'm in finance/accounting, he looked sufficiently scared of me that I was pretty sure he wouldn't attack me (I'm paranoid that way). His name is Eric, he's in wholesale meats and lives in Switzerland. I think he just wanted learn a little English -- he spoke a combination of French and German to me, and would ask what different words were in English. 90 minutes later, Eric dropped me off in front of my apartment, shook my hand and drove off. And my faith in humanity makes a bit of headway....