In the winter of the past year 2019, directly after Christmas my wife and I were in Paris. It was cold and rainy but stunningly beautiful and romantic. The city was out time and age. I was not able to tell which century it is. Buildings were not altered, nor aged since their construction one or two centuries ago. Avenues, streets and alleys have never changed, or maybe they did discreetly. Cobblestones promenades covered by the rain drops are harmoniously reflecting the flaming light of the lampposts and the architecture of the history. Parisians who were covered in dark-colored and heavy garments were slowly crawling and disturbing the reflections on the cobblestones. Only vehicles that could tell where are we and which to era we belong. But the city that was taken by a strong and long-lasting transportation strike is happily breathing her fresh air. The massively reduced number of automobile vehicles ridding the city made it difficult to tell; whether it is the 20s of this century or the 20s of the 18th one. Yet it gave us the chance to walk the city. I am not exaggerating when I say that we have walked hundreds of kilometers inside The City of Lights. The following photographs are demonstrating how I saw and felt the foggy filtered Paris at that time.