Many a night I have wandered back to my hotel lost in the criss-cross of streets more like alleys, a fresh coat of rain glimmering on cobblestones under a full moon. It is late. A time when lovers stroll before going back to bed. And little city dogs take their last evening walk. Paris is spectacular at night , especially a misty, Autumn Sunday night when people are relaxed from a weekend of pleasure. This is the time to come and lean upon the Pont Neuf, the old bridge spanning the River Seine. One can feel the centuries of the city's history hiding like mirages, between wavelets, or lurking in shadowy doorways on the Left Bank. I love standing on that bridge, wrapping my scarf closer around my neck, listening to bits of conversation as couples move past me, going somewhere arms locked, focused intently upon what is happening between them. Here I take a moment to contemplate the joys and sorrows of my life before getting on with it. This is my spot for planting my feet and feeling connected to all that has gone before and that which has yet to be revealed. Secretly, I have accumlated several spots in Paris for momentary meditation and they never let me down. Doesn't matter how many people are there, the weather, the time of day..my touchstones are dispersed throughout the city and I revere them all. Sometimes it is important to find the geographical place where you can be very quiet and still and learn something more about who you really are.