For a few days, this tree carpeted the street with its falling pink petals.
There have been more than a few disturbed nights since moving to Lyon. Noise from the street or neighbours disrupting my much needed quiet.
I have learned to love silicone ear plugs. I can not sleep well in them but they let me rest, sleep for a while, and come out as soon as possible. I recently tried wax ear plugs but they did not match the noise blocking or comfort of the silicone equivalents.
What surprised me is the cause of noise. Obvious noises of a party I expected: chatter, occasional shouts, and music. What caught me out, and continues to leave me wondering, is the singing.
The locals, at least here, like to sing in groups in the early hours. We first heard them singing in the bars near our temporary accommodation. Older men singing in drunken unison. Powerful voices singing timeless songs.
That seemed endearing. A group of older men getting slowly tipsy during the night and then joining as one for a song before ambling home.
What then of students singing.
Our peace is broken by the odd party next door – or somewhere close by in our apartment building. Young students throwing a party that starts too late and goes on until shortly before the sun rises. Suitably unrespectable hours by all measures.
They started sining the other night. Without obvious reason or trigger. But not timeless classics; they sang the words of recent dance music favourites. It was both brilliant, hilarious, and captivating. Funny partly because the words were English and occasionally the group would fade as the lyrics became too difficult to sing but returning with force for the chorus. Captivating because the group split the roles by gender. In some songs the girls sang one part, the boys another part.
I think at least one song was older and taught to them as children. The university students sang this song particularly well.
I struggle to imagine a mixed group of students bursting into song at a party in Australia or UK. Too self aware or too constrained to risk making a fool of themselves. Drama students – absolutely. A group of female friends – absolutely but maybe not in a pub, club, or larger party.
Something charming about the singing but I wish it would not intrude during the earliest hours of the morning.
Each visit to our nearby Parc de la Tête d’Or brings a new wave of spring flowers to delight in. Our walks are filled with little detours as I wander across the grass to investigate a hint of purple here and a flash of yellow there.
The shaded grass beneath the trees is riddled with delicate violets.
Hyacinths. These are one of the first flowers I remember growing as a child.
These red tulips stood out amongst the predominantly purple and yellow colour palette.
On a side note, iMovie 11 has started crashing my Mac Pro. It makes putting these films together impossible on my most capable Mac; instead I have to borrow Megan’s MacBook Pro. I have reported the problem as best I can as a customer to Apple; the recent decline of software quality at Apple is concerning.
I have looked forward to my first walk since the surgery with delight. We often walk in the local park to escape our apartment and the trials of the day. So I dreaded being stuck inside while I recovered.
I was not disappointed by my first slow, and a touch uncomfortable, walk yesterday evening. The rain had just stopped when we stepped outside and the light was fading. It made for a magical environment and a near deserted park. Only a few runners looping the edge shared the quiet paths with us.