Predictably, the plants on the back porch died over the summer, of heat and thirst. So today I walked over to the flower market on the Ile de la Cité to replace the Choisya with another Choisya--I love the lightness of its leaves, the way they flutter. As I was leaving I noticed that the seller had some plants sitting along the edge of the metal roof of the building, a couple of which looked like just-sprouted catalpa--the market is surrounded by catalpas. So he climbed up a ladder and brought them down and sold me a pot with two six-inch catalpas.
I window-shopped home: j'ai fait du lèche-vitrine, I licked the windows, lots of windows, and the bookstalls along the Seine, and I came home and read the second chapter of my new book by Elena Ferrante.