The Bataclan, Paris

More than 2 weeks after the 13 November terrorist attack, I decided to go to the Place de la Republique and the Bataclan to pay my own, quiet, tribute, expecting to be mostly alone on this grey Monday afternoon.

Dozens of people were quietly walking, reading the tributes, placing new ones.  Closed somber expressions on their faces, quiet whispered words.  A great deal of emotion, even now.  Fresh flowers and candles, fresh letters and peoms, new flags  are laid over or beside the faded flowers and burned out candles, the poems and letters and photos dampened by the rain.

Heads of State, in Paris for the COP21, come by to pay tribute.

I saw only a couple of "hate" notes.  All tributes to the victims, to Paris, to youth and to Life were of compassion, humanity, Liberty...

No Christmas lights on this street.  Shops here are empty - for who has the desire to shop after witnessing this totally random act of terror.  Why this concert hall, why this restaurant or that street corner.  Why the 52 year old man in his studio apartment behind the Bataclan, killed by a bullet that ricocheted through his open window?

Elsewhere in Paris, Life goes on.  The beauty of Paris, the lights, the many people - they all attest to the attitude in France.