The poor fellow in that last photo is a little how I felt, arriving back in Paris after over two weeks of practically Caribbean-like weather in New York. OK, so now it really feels like winter is supposed to feel but my body is in shock; at last look, it was witnessing confused cherry blossoms around the Central Park Reservoir in their premature stages of development, two months too early.
The Parisians are apparently so unaccustomed to this that the frozen fountain (above) is still burbling water into that unintentional ice sculpture. Ah, art!
It's all the television news is talking about here, other than the upcoming presidential elections in both France and the US. Gee, I wonder why we don't give as much time to the French elections over in the US. How many people in the US know who's running in France? But I do love listening to the French newscasters pronounce "Gingrich;" those hard 'g's' are quite a mouthful.
By the way, that dusting of snow is about as much as Paris gets, I'm told. Good thing, because no one removes it and I slipped on sidewalk ice a couple of times today and let loose a few choice English-language words and phrases.
So much for blending in.