tourist tuesday and room #2

 

"How did you get here?" I wonder with alarming regularity.

"How did you get to this place? How ever did you make your way to be right here for me to find?"

 

I wonder this about the girl with the Russian accent who works behind the Lancome counter at the department store near my home in St. Augustine.

I wonder this about the new, red~haired bartender who works Thursday nights at Harry's in my little Florida town.

I wonder this about the yellow seashell that washed upon the public beach on Lido, the shell that jumped into my hand and would not be put down.

 

"What ever happened in your life to bring you right here?" I wonder, thinking of all the places that people and things have been before me, of all the places they will go after.

Who touched the brass handle that opened the window of my little room? The chambermaid, well, yes, but before that?

What traveler closed it last and where was she going next?

 

Did she sleep well in this room, that traveler, and then awake every morning around 8:00--Tuesday through Saturday-- as the produce vendor under the window sang a beautiful aria, never missing a note?

Did she watch him gently polish each apple as he sang? Did she notice how carefully he arranged the white asparagus in hay~stack shapes along one row, propping them up just so to balance?

Did she watch his pride and enjoyment of each loving task?

 

I hope she was not the type who wanted to sleep until 9:00. Or 10:00. Or later.

Well, who would in Venice?

If you are out late, you would just stay up to greet the early morning on the Grand Canal. You would watch the boats bring in the freshest of flowers and fish and apples and asparagus.

Then you would go to bed at noon and no amount of singing would bother you one bit.

 

Well, you know me. I do not want to miss a thing.

I would not complain about one aria or even ten.

I am up with the sun. I am up with the song, leaning out the window trying to spy my apple-of-the-day from way up here on the second floor.

After breakfast I stop for my apple, only dreaming of the asparagus, as I am off for my adventure.

By the fourth day my singing~produce~guy packs up a handful of juicy~ripe cherries for me, "No charge."

Now I am spoiled for life. Ruined. Plus the fruit is delicious.

 

I love my room here and know it will always be mine.

Even when I am home, I will own it. Even if I never see it again, in my heart it is mine.

But know this, I would gladly share it with you.

As I share it with you now...

 

Above my bed is the most wondrous of lights. Venetian glass made not far away, most likely.

somepinkflowers of a light~fixture. Beautiful by day, magical by night.

Like they knew I was coming.

 

Who made this light? That it would shine down on my Italian vacation and make me smile with delight.

I stand on top the bed on tip~toes and still can not reach to touch it. I try on more than one occasion but no.

 

Thank goodness for a zoom lens.

 

I wonder too much maybe about people and other little things. Where they are going and where they have been.

Who sat in this chair and rested? Who looked in this mirror and smiled?

 

Of all the magic powers of invisibility and flight, of super~human~strength and amazing~time~travel, what one magic power would I want?

I cannot say for certain but wouldn't it be lovely to have the power to know the stories of things?

How they came to be where they are...

 

How did I possibly know to pack the blue shoes that would sit so nicely my little rug?

I have so many pairs of shoes, in so many colors and these are the ones that fit my temporary home stylishly without discourse. Harmony all around. Go figure.

The glow of the warm walls, warm wood, warm lights overhead.

Who went before and left me goodness, I do not know, but I thank them all.

And how about you?

"How did you get here?" I wonder.

"How did you get to this place? How ever did you make your way to be right here in room #2?"

I am not certain.

But I think it is grand that you did.

Comments

[grrl+dog]

Beautiful shots of a thoughtful day in Venice...so gorgeous.

[elsa]

grand indeed that i made it here!

i love your room!
the light fixture is divine
beautiful pictures too spf

[erin :: the olive notes]

i like this more private look at venice...and you're right that it could be easy to fall in love with a room in a city like that :)

glad my Pantheon panoramic made you smile!

[eb]

I love walking
in your pale blue chucks
thank you somepink
for the deep listen over there

thinking of you
over here
and how I love
how you think...

xox - eb.

[shibori girl]

I love the way you think, my SomepinkWonderWoman! You are such the romantic, wondering about What-and-Who-Came-Before.

You relish every moment of your day, and then are so generous to pass that along to us. Thank you! And now, I REALLY want to go back to Venice. I was there while on a cruise, and we only had 24 hours to see the city. Whhhhaaa!?

Thanks for the (mental) trip...

xoxo,

Kate

[3rdEyeMuse]

you ARE a wonder. I simply loved this & your thoughts and have often wondered much the same. :)

how'd I get here? a whole lot of lefts.