PERE-LACHAISE Cemetery: PIAF & BECAUD!!

*Do you see the BUTTERFLY here? I watched it fluttering
around me before lighting on this headstone ;-)

It's Saturday morning and another GORGEOUS Spring-like day. SUNNY and close to 60 degrees.
Crocus' and Daffodils are in BLOOM here! I believe the effects of the Gulf Stream put Paris about a month or so ahead of our weather in the U.S. so..., "I Love Paris in The Springtime!" La...de...da...

Yesterday morning I made a trek to the world renowned Pere-Lachaise Cemetery. So many notables find their "final resting place" there. A few of whom include; Balzac, Moliere, Apollinaire, Maria Callas, Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison (and many other "well knowns".)
The specific point of my visit was a promise made to a friend to pay her (and my) respects to the great Edith Piaf, France's most famous Chanteuse. I wandered for a while in this incredibly beautiful burial ground. Up, down, over, across its meticulous and well worn cobblestone paths. There were Crows caw-cawing and flying among the trees, bobbing along the ground,
and hopping from the tops of one headstone to another.

I wasn't having much luck in locating Piaf's grave until I happened upon a group of eight young Italian girls from Milan who were visiting Paris in celebration of one's eighteenth birthday.
They had photographed the cemetery's map with their digital camera and were not only happy to locate the Piaf site on their camera for me, but also chaperoned me there (they were very excited to learn that I was from New York, but a bit disappointed to learn that I wouldn't make it to Rome during my month in Europe!)

Thanks to them, we found Edith's resting place and paid our respects. They took a couple of photographs of me with my camera, and then wanted photos of me with their cameras (I'm not exactly sure why they wanted a photo of a gay middle-aged stranger --- except perhaps, for the fact that I was from New York.)

After communing with Piaf, I ventured to make my way out of the cemetery I was met with a mystical experience. Slowing walking in the direction of where I thought there might be an exit to the street, I noticed a grave that was overflowing with flowers, long-stem roses, blooming hyacinths, pots of pretend plastic faded fleurs, and a greenish tinged, rain-washed xeroxed photocopy of a man who looked vaguely familiar. Reading the name engraved, I was stunned to discover the grave site of Gilbert Becaud. The french singer/songwriter. Composer of the song "L'Important C'est La Rose." This song is a favorite of the friend who hoped I would visit Piaf for her, and also a favorite of mine. It is my favorite song, sung and recorded by my favorite singer, Jane Olivor. When Olivor performs this song in concert, she hands out one single long stem rose to a member in the audience. I have had the privilege of receiving "this" rose, twice.
And, those who have seen my shows, know that I usually close with this song. Yes, Jane Olivor does the definitive version of this song, and I have had the honor or swiping it from right-out-under-her-nose! (with, of course, nothing but the utmost respect.) Roses. Love. Life. The mysteries of which, when we least expect it, unfold right in front of us.