Nantes 3: Dans Le Jardin des Plantes

Damp and cool, the green of the Jardin des Plantes manages to remain vibrant beneath the measured grey of a January sky. It feels early, and I drink a bit, though it is mostly water, and attempt to strike a balance between defense and surrender, dancing a bit with the fragrant, afternoon air’s ability to call me all to hopefulness and nostalgia, anxiety and affinity. The clouds look as though they desperately want to release rain, but one does not expect it. I remain and wait for this space to release something related to the sky, but born terrestrially for the most part – an invitation to revelry of sorts, but still vague. The fragrance here is so rich, but it holds back a bit, excusing itself with the hour, or an interruption of tobacco smoke, or even the time of year for, as it is still only January, such a mélange of odors might itself wonder if it should not be so reckless as to stir the type of spring-like visions that it is certainly capable of stirring.

Part of Nantes’ Frenchness lies in the schedules of its citizens, a great number of whom are always about, walking among the streets, patronizing the shops. Yet the Jardin des Plantes is anomalistically quiet – certainly not deserted, and busy, indeed, by American standards (for a public park on a weekday). But those humans who are present here move in steady, sweeping motions, leaving the quicker pace to the grouses and exotic ducks that play on the green, darting to and from Asian foliage, manicured and maintained, but allowed to seem, in certain places, random and clustered, as if some natural circumstance played at least a partial role in its origin or design. The gardener smokes and presses the heels of his hands to his eye sockets. He appears remarkably clean, though he is certainly too far from me to say for sure. The enormous faux-Oriental style bird house stands vacant as shockingly white doves perch on the spindly branches of a nearby willow of some sort. A cool draft forces the air to abandon its more tepid qualities, and one begins to expect rain, though it is only coincidence, I am sure, that sees the park become much less populated at the moment.