Springtime arrives in Paris (with a little assistance)

Yesterday I discovered the Promenade Plantée, an elevated park that traverses the twelfth arrondissement of from Bastille to Dugommier, sitting atop a former railway viaduct. I had read about the park and been meaning to find it - but the impetus finally came from my watching the movie Before Sunset, in which the two main characters take a stroll along the promenade.

As I set out from my apartment around 1 o'clock, the sky was cloudy and it had been drizzling on-and-off since morning: my expectations were low, and I'd packed an umbrella just in case. I took the metro to Dugommier, found my way to the Jardin de Reuilly, and climbed stone steps towards the promenade's entrance. (Pause to appreciate the photo that I stole off of their website)


The pleasant surprises started here. Situated four stories above street level, the promenade is refreshingly open - a dramatic change from many of Paris' "hidden" gardens which are snuck into the city grid, often sunken below street-level or entirely enclosed by buildings as though trying to shut out the truth of their urban surroundings. The height was, in a way, liberating. As I walked on, what I encountered next made me so happy I almost cried. In my path were not the naked trees and monotonous green shrubs I had expected, but rather fields of miniature yellow daffodils and already-in-blossom fruit trees!

I should explain that these were not the only flowers that I've encountered in Paris of late - the city's several-hundred-strong contingent of professional gardeners has been diligently transplanting blossoms from the cities nurseries for about two weeks now, a gesture which I must admit detracts from special quality of those first crocuses of spring. Yet those purple impostors that greet me on my walk home from the Corvisart metro are just humble splashes of color in comparison to the tableau with which I was now confronted. And I'm pretty sure that these ambitious blossoming fruit trees are permanent residents of the Promenade Plantée.


It's exciting to be experiencing Spring so early - back in Boston (which is really as far back as I can remember trends in weather) there was nothing but mud until mid April, and then in May there would appear that strange blue-green chemical product that has probably given cancer to all of Harvard's groundskeepers, and then in late May/early June there would be grass! And maybe - just maybe - a couple of flowers gracing the Lowell House courtyard. Here in Paris, we haven't yet hit the Ides of March and already everything is green and full of promise. I suppose there really is something to that old "Springtime in Paris" cliche.