Walking on water

Retirement, from the obvious French root retirer, to withdraw, is a term laden with ambiguity. Withdraw from the world of obligations, necessities, schedules, timetables but withdraw also from the world of the active, the needed, the privileged, from those who belong. Whereas I don’t, at least not anymore, the most glaring privilege taken from me, the free parking space inside the yard of the ancient Abbey of the Bénédictins, a world now closed to me. And so every day my travels start from the same spot, the Parking des Bénédictins, (the irony is not lost on me). Travels, from French …