Postcards from Paris: { f o n t a i n e b l e a u }

On a profoundly sunny and peculiarly warm winter afternoon, we took a drive out to the château of Fontainebleau. The sun shined gold, illuminating the gilded features on the castle’s front gate.
Walking like cowboys on the cobblestone, certain emotions were left on hold. However, the romantic notion of a Sunday stroll through the topiary garden was something that could not be dismissed.
  As much as Fontainebleau can be mistakenly dismissed when compared to the grand scheme of Versailles. I am still learning not to compare things to others, even after recognizing certain English charms that reflect London’s Hyde Park; Fontainebleau still holds its own. Though the winter coats still lingered, the seagulls were out sunbathing on the lake and some of the Parisians were profiting from the early hints of spring outside the city limits.
Like the Kings of past France we took ease in our steps, enjoying what we could before we lost the sunlight and had to return back to the city. Not realizing that only a few days later, we’d be greeted by snowfall.

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