/how many shades of pink do you want? yes!

The one thing I longed for during my sojourn in Paris was to have a vantage point wide enough to witness the rumor of pink skies hidden behind the beautiful stone jungle of neo-gothic facades. There was a hint of autumn in the air, the streets, the river Seine, and even the Parisian sky.

Every evening I’d be at a spectacular location, not to discount the distressingly good-looking parts of the city, but whenever I’d look up post 6 PM, the pink peaking through the thick viel of concrete would leave me craving for more just like a child trying to look what’s going on the stage in a music concert desperately clinging to the hope that an adult hoists them up their shoulders so that they can be a part of the ethereal experience.

On my very last day in the city, Uranus (the sky god) gave into my borderline-religious yearning to witness the spectacle it creates every late-summer evening, and what I experienced transcended reason. As if it asked “How many shades of pink do you want to see?” and I replied with a galvanized yet simple and modest, “Yes!”