I love to stop by this small park at the entrance of Rue Mazarine. Whether it's for reading or just observing people like the group of Russian workers taking their lunch break here everyday. There's always something or someone that inspires me. An old lady feeding the pigeons, a boy from the Beaux Arts sketching on a paper, or even this old man sitting on the exact same bench everyday with the exact same posture: resting his chin on his cane, giving smiles to the people passing by. I love this place. Probably because my grand mother living in rue Mazarine used to take me here when I was little, but also because not so many people know about it so it's generally the regulars of the neighbourhood that come by. But the thing I like the most are the beautiful benches sculpted in the shape of opened books. Sometimes, tourists sit on these benches and look around to take pictures of the Institute without paying attention about what is right under their buts...
