While on a corporate assignment in Paris, France years ago covering a meeting, I had an afternoon/evening break and took to the streets for a walk as I would usually do when I was frequently on my own in a foreign place. Outfitted with a new wool scarf, this brisk fall day day found me on the Left Bank, near the Notre Dame De Paris around the Boulevard Saint Germain and Rue Lagrange. The 12th century tight cobble streets, bustling shoppers and the occasional obligatory bike rider with a french bread loaf hanging out the back were all there. I was enjoying the scene, the welcoming scent of meals being prepared in the air and that special twilight mixture of sunset and shop lights when I spotted this small display of fruit in a small shop window. Nothing particularly special other than the artistic austerity of it and the contrast between their color and old worn shelf they sat upon. If my memory serves me right, I soon after enjoyed a really nice Turkish meal of lamb stew and warm bread in a local sidewalk cafe.
I someday would very much like to return to that small corner of that city in the warm company of my wife and that scarf to once again enjoy it's culinary and visual fruits.
