Musée de l'Orangerie. One of my favorite museums in Paris. They let you take photos of everything except the bone-chilling wall to wall paintings of Monet's water lilies.  While sitting on those benches, looking at those larger than life paintings, I felt such peace. I don't think I can describe it completely, but somehow, as I was staring (in silence,  the whole room was silent) at the strokes of texture and taking in the range of colors and wondering at the depiction of reflection, I felt somewhat out of body. Little did I know that going to this museum that holds the masterpieces of my favorite painter was merely an episode of clever foreshadowing, thought out by my ever able husband.A few more favorite paintings.