I love old things. I like the dirt where I am from.
It is about the only thing that is old. We bulldoze every structure over 50.
In France, things are Old, with capital O.
They like their old, too. (Even if it is cold.)
And sometimes, so do I.
So here is some Parisian old. Found while taking a different route home on a gray wintery day.
Undressed and stripped down to show its story in horizontal and vertical layers.
Modern, recognizable Paris on the right in white with gray metal roof, showing it's 2-toned, 2-era brick bones. Then a circular staircase (reminiscent of chateaus) next to tudor-style dark beams and oeil-de-boeuf, circular windows (eye of cow).
And then clear remenants of 2 roofs with the newest layer, cement, for this generation of Parisians. Who have also, so politely, painted their names on the base so no one forgets them.