A crazy little thing...called love

Kris stirred restlessly as the first rays of the dawn crept in through the glass window. She was asleep, but her mind was suddenly alert, awake, and refused to let her go back to the deep slumber. She tried to move her hand and stretch, but then she realized that she was being held, held in a warm embrace. She opened one eye and saw Nick’s profile shifting ever so slightly as he breathed peacefully. She could still smell in the lingering traces of love in the room that surrounded them. She could remember the tenderness of the passion they had shared the night before. As she looked at him, she felt a deep chasm that opened in her soul, a different kind of need to protect his sleeping form, the need to sneak inside his heart and stay there. The pain returned, the abomination that she would have to leave soon, that their time together was somehow running out and she closed her eyes stifling a deep sob that rose inside her. She didn’t realize that perhaps this man had some form of enchantment to know her inside out even in his sleep. He released her in his sleep, and shifted his form closer to her, encircling her entire body by his. Bringing her close to his heart, he rested her head on his arms, slightly not waking up as he did so. She felt the heaviness in her heart disappear, replaced by a slight tingling of increased heartbeat, the kind that comes with victory, the kind that comes with hope and the realization dawned onto her how this felt like a safe haven, a place of refuge to her decaying soul. She found herself looking at Nick’s face, wanting this moment to last, realizing that this was the tiny little thing people so exaggerated and called love

The moon has always been a source of mystery to me. It's symbolic association with romance and mythical creatures like vampires and werewolves in itself bestows an aura of enigma around it. Unaware , of the fact that the arrival of the summer solstice would coincide with the full moon, an uneventful  evening walk to a grocery store rendered me one of the greatest pleasures of all time. Imagine walking by,  lost in your own thoughts and there it is, an orange-yellowish orb staring at your face from the night sky. The sheer beauty of the moment is mesmerizing. I am aware that the moon has its phases, but the delicate and faint glow emanating from the full moon , was not something I was prepared for. Someone then mentioned that this was the "strawberry moon". Digging through revealed interesting facts about its namesake  (http://www.cbsnews.com/news/strawberry-moon-arrives-with-the-summer-solstice/), but what is surprising is the rarity of this event that won't happen again till 2062.
A slice of the moon for all the stargazers and nature lovers.

A late evening visit to a french bakery today (http://lamadeleine.com/), led me to think that what is it about these small, quaint bakeries that seems to tug at my heart. France has always been epitomized as a center for culture, romance , fashion and has been touted for its cafe culture. The cafes have been an integral part of the French culture, evolving from a place of gathering for the intellectuals to meet, a place where artists could showcase their works, a place where writers could shed their melancholy to a place where people simply flock in to spend a lazy afternoon with family or friends. It is the beautiful decor of this place that pulls me towards it time and again. The traditional intimate interior done in wood and the outdoor sidewalk seating each has a distinct ancient feeling to it, binding me to the culture and heritage of France at once. Whether you are a quiet book reader, or are just interested in watching people , these cafe offer solace to each wandering soul , almost "teleporting" you to a different era of peace and happiness. 

“The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say” 
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring