It was our last day in Paris. We decided to take it a little easier and did some souvenir shopping. I loved that as it began to softly rain all the magasins set out umbrellas at their entrances. I happily purchased a Chat Noir one as we went by La Madeline (the Romanesque church dedicated to Mary Magdeline). We decided to use our time remaining visiting Paris’ second largest church — Saint-Sulpice (of “The Da Vinci Code” fame). There were compasses and roses everywhere — in the masonry, the doors, and the stained glass. Inside the church to either side of the entrance were the two halves of an enormous shell (Tridacna gigas) given to King Francis I by the Venetian Republic. They function as holy water fonts and rest on rock-like bases. In 1727 Jean-Baptiste Languet de Gergy, then priest of Saint-Sulpice, requested the construction of a gnomon in the church as part of its new construction, to help him determine the time of the equinoxes and hence of Easter. A meridian line of brass was inlaid across the floor and ascending a white marble obelisk at the top is a sphere surmounted by a cross. The obelisk is dated 1743. In the south transept window a small opening with a lens was set up, so that a ray of sunlight shines onto the brass line. At noon on the winter solstice (December 21) the ray of light touches the brass line on the obelisk. And at noon on the equinoxes (March 21 and September 21), the ray touches an oval plate of copper in the floor near the altar. Constructed by the English clock-maker and astronomer Henry Sully, the gnomon was also used for various scientific measurements. This rational use may have protected Saint-Sulpice from being destroyed during the French Revolution. While I realize this is not the best picture because of the darkness, it does serve to capture my memory of the holy mystique I felt within. Burk wanted to see Napoleon’s tomb and then we had dinner in the Latin Quarter in the coolest looking Indian restaurant. They had this heavenly smelling incense that was enormous and in different colors. The sweet waiter let me take some. He said they came from his cousin in India and you cannot get them anywhere else. On the way back to our hotel we stopped at a little fresh fruit stand and picked up some cherries and a bottle of cognac shaped like the Eiffel Tower. It was a lot of fun. American poet Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr said:
“Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”
Even though we were headed to Venice in the morning, I knew I had found my home.
