We had gone to Monet's house first thing, the morning after we arrived in Giverny. We got there right when the gate opened; and so were able to see the bright pink and green abode and its colorful gardens before too many tourists trickled in. The blue and white kitchen was the highlight, with its walls of tile and a yellow dining room its complement. By the time we left the water lily garden there were too many tourists to weed through. I had to pass through the many cameras to get back up to the gift shop. It used to be Monet's second studio, with its massive skylights, I could only imagine if it were still used for its grand purpose today. My professor found a postcard with an old photograph of Monet; he is standing in that very studio in front of a stack of his late works, the massive water lilies. I say goodbye to the rooster and smell the roses as I exit.
Luckily for us, we returned on Monday night the following week, after hours. We were let in through a back gate and into the water lily garden. No one was there but us and the chirping frogs. We got to paint in Monet's old stomping grounds for hours, uninterrupted, only stopping when the day's light was too faded. I am very grateful for such a rare opportunity. I will remember sitting on the edge of a bridge, with my legs dangling over, my watercolors beside me, looking out at the purple water; feeling as if time had stopped long ago.
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