I make it to my destination without any run-ins with SNCF agents and walk through a light downpour, listening to directions from Google maps through my earbuds. I hope it stops raining long enough to get out my camera. The park is much bigger than I expect, and I'm not quite sure which direction the cherry grove is in, so I start walking. It's empty on this wet day. Only the most dedicated runners are on the gravel paths.
I pass a singing robin.
The rain stops.
I follow a sign for les toilettes and discover the chateau. It looks exactly as I imagine one mentioned in A Tale of Two Cities.
Finding the restrooms requires a lot of walking and the confusion of figuring out the way the French use arrows on signs. French arrows never seem to be straightforward.
I see a red squirrel. A friend in England told me the North American squirrel had all but run the red squirrel off that island.
It's spring, and this one is carrying her new baby.
I meet my friend, and we begin exploring l'Orangerie. The flowers are gorgeous.
The floppiness of the poppies is my favorite. They're such a delicate flower.
We begin the long walk to the cherry trees. This estate is truly vast! I love that it is now a public park. This kind of place is such a refuge from sirens and honking horns, and as Anne says, "There's so much scope for the imagination!"
The cherry grove is a truly magical place on this quiet misty morning, and we realize it's a gift to be there without the thousands of other Parisians that will flock to see the blossoms.
Don't you want to plant a cherry orchard now? The twisty, knobby branches have such character; it's such a satisfyingly shaped tree.
Though they aren't at peak bloom, we walk through a grove of trees with white blossoms as we leave the park.
This outing is worth my completely soaked boots, that are apparently not waterproof.
