Streets of Paris

Wandering through narrow cobblestone streets, discovering hidden courtyards, and finding beauty in the everyday moments of city life. Paris has a way of revealing itself slowly, one street at a time, one corner at a time.

There's something about getting lost in a city like Paris. Not truly lost, but the kind of lost where you're not quite sure where you are, and you're not in a hurry to figure it out. You just keep walking, noticing things—the way light hits a particular building, the way people sit at cafes, the way flowers spill out of window boxes.

The streets are narrow in some places, wide in others. Some are bustling with activity, others are quiet and residential. But each one has its own character, its own rhythm, its own way of telling a story.

I love finding those hidden courtyards, the ones you can only see if you peek through a gate or walk down an alley you might otherwise miss. They're like secret gardens in the middle of the city, quiet spaces where time seems to move differently.

And the cafes—there's something about the way Parisians do cafes. They sit for hours, watching the world go by, talking, reading, just being. It's a reminder that life doesn't always have to be rushed, that there's value in slowing down and paying attention.

Every corner holds a possibility. A new street to explore, a new building to admire, a new moment to capture. The city is full of these small discoveries, these everyday moments that feel significant when you're paying attention.

Paris teaches you to look closely, to notice details, to find beauty in the ordinary. A door handle, a window frame, the way ivy grows on a wall—these things become worth photographing, worth remembering, worth writing about.

Maybe that's what travel is really about—not just seeing new places, but learning to see differently. Learning to find poetry in the streets, in the architecture, in the way people move through their daily lives. And Paris, with its narrow streets and hidden courtyards, is a perfect teacher.