The Place Vendôme is the heart of the high Parisian jeweler's store. Shop windows amaze us of precious jewels, extraordinary frames. It is funny to imagine small exotic monkeys climbing the facade of this beautiful hotel, invading jeweler's stores and stealing their treasures. One of them escapes on the roof, an other one hesitates between a diamond and a watch with fob. Diadems and rings are scattered.
The Place de la Concorde was empty. In front of me rises a column. It is the Emperor's obelisk. Crowned with a golden crest, tattooed by hieroglyphs, it stands straight ahead and proud as a peacock. Yes it is a peacock, a royal peacock. And the wheel behind him scatters the golden feathers of its precious coat.
Marie-Antoinette is dreamy, Versailles did not spare its fate. Dauphine of France, Queen of France, nevertheless she did not wish for it. She would only want to escape. The protocol is heavy, the courtiers are nasty. In the little palace of Trianon, she is another one. There she can enjoy simplicity, nature and music. She can dream freely, observe the birth of the spring, follow the butterflies, pick wild flowers, put them in her hair among her ribbons. This is happiness, stroll in the countryside, walk according to the wind, watch for the song of a beautiful perched bird. The garden of Trianon is a haven of peace. It is the nest of one thousand extraordinary insects. The beetle, the horsefly, the ladybird hide in the flowery flowerbeds, the dragonflies of the river roam in the surroundings.
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