Have you ever noticed that, after you’ve lived in a place for a while, you cease to note its charms?  This is always a sad day for me — the day I realize that I haven’t looked up in a while, haven’t appreciated the beauty around me, haven’t taken pleasure in my surroundings.  

It has happened in every place I’ve ever lived, Paris included. One day you’re enchanted by everything you see and then, suddenly, you see nothing.  Just work and chores and have-tos — what the French call “Métro, Boulot, DoDo” (subway, job, sleep).  

Fortunately, magical moments can pop up when you least expect them to, and pull you out of your somnolence.  Like this moment over Canal St-Martin, when I was lucky enough to be crossing a bridge at the exact instant the autumn day ended and l’heure bleue began.