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Venice; silent but for the jabbering tourists, the water taxi and ferry engines and the timid yapping dogs trailered by a thin flora leash. Nights upon the isles were mesmerizing as the gypsy coin jinglers of Florence felt like a gossamer memory of youth.
Amidst the city, some four hundred gondolas made their rounds, kicking off the enclosing walls for guidance. In their adept grace and good humor, the stillness simply added to a hypnotic state found upon the lands of the Venetian lagoon. Albeit, even the temporal state of a traveler’s enthrallment comes with a price. The fee for a few days upon “The Queen of the Adriatic” was priceless.
Paying for Your Mind: The Magic of Venezia
Camron Karsten2006-11-13 11:29:27
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Venice; silent but for the jabbering tourists, the water taxi and ferry engines and the timid yapping dogs trailered by a thin flora leash. Nights upon the isles were mesmerizing as the gypsy coin jinglers of Florence felt like a gossamer memory of youth.
Amidst the city, some four hundred gondolas made their rounds, kicking off the enclosing walls for guidance. In their adept grace and good humor, the stillness simply added to a hypnotic state found upon the lands of the Venetian lagoon. Albeit, even the temporal state of a traveler’s enthrallment comes with a price. The fee for a few days upon “The Queen of the Adriatic” was priceless.
What the Venetian Creature Calls Home
On our first evening’s arrival within the northern Italian lagoon, a numinous fog hung onto the water of the canals. Within Piazza San Marco, the 16th and 17th century walls faded into a dream as tours of pigeons and people gathered for feed and sociability.
Under the mystique of the sky and consumed by the omnipresence of these Venetian creatures (pigeons and peoples), lights along the outside of the San Marco perimeters snapped into luminescence by the touch of some secretive finger behind its molded stone. The crowds, under the trance of the sudden whim of magic shrouded in a cloak of enamoring fog, set wail an extended exasperation of awe. Together, we hummed as one—a whole piazza!—creating a synchronized tune of San Marco’s grandiosity.
Like the Doge’s command, or like the wizard Merlin’s twitching wand, the crowd’s sanctified choir faded as Beethoven’s quintet enraged with passion. Before one café a classy band battled with another equally classy band opposite the square. From Mozart to Italian tradition into the classic modernity of The Sound of Music, the front ensembles in stiff tuxes fought each other for the thickest audience at either table or observing bunches. By feet, the music was free to the ears.
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See photographs from:
Italy Gallery
