As we flaneured down the streets of Paris, on our way to the Musée de Cluny we espied this flower stall. Was it the Place Monge? I cannot recall. What I do recall is the freshness, the variety… and the price. Who could resist buying a bunch or two, and like the best Gilbert and Sullivan Aesthetes…
“Though the Philistines may jostle, you will rank as an apostle in the high aesthetic band, If you walk down Picadilly with a poppy or a lily in your mediaeval hand.”
It seemed particulary fitting that I should end our stroll venerating the La Dame à la licorne clutching a tulip, or a rose or two, only my prosaic friend The Doctor, and Madame S. both pointed out that flowers are forbidden in the museum and that the whole idea was a gross affectation. I turned from the bouquets in dismay, never to see them more.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Fresh