Watching elderly folks dance

I am reading in a park by the lake when I see equipment being set up on a nearby stage. Soon, accordion music and French singing flood the air while septuagenarian couples dominate the dance floor. It’s a Bal Populaire, and I watch as men and women waltz. The chairs surrounding the stage are quickly filled, and I give mine up to an elderly man with big glasses and a wobbly gait. Within a minute of him sitting, he spots familiar faces and shakily stands back up to give them an enthusiastic wave across the lawn.

It seems like everyone knows each other, and it seems like everyone knows how to dance. Watching couples and friends twirl and laugh, I have a silly feeling that I am being let in on a secret.

An excerpt from “It’s okay to be sad in Paris” on substack, click the link