There is a time of the year in Paris when the leaves start to fly and fall, the air becomes too cold and the day too short for children to play outside. There is a place which suddenly becomes empty and little by little it starts to belong to older people. Men and women bundled up in their heavy winter jackets, playing à la pétanque, playing chess or checkers, or simply relaxing reading a book. The carousel stops running around, time slows down and everything seems to take back its natural rhythm.
There is a place called Le Jardin du Luxembourg.