Sunday, September 18, 2016

2016 Europe * Civitavecchia * September 18

"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet 
and the winds long to play with your hair."      ~Khalil Gibran



A single seagull slides on the wind with the brilliant white and gray clouds watching from behind.  The warm sun thrusts its long fingers through those clouds to poke playfully at the bird and the waves far below.  This joyous sea pounces again and again on the polished stones, those rocks that roll and roll with the waves until their sharp parts are worn to smooth suede.  A lone woman walks along the shore, hair and skirt flapping in the breeze.  She rejoices in the sun, the mist and the rounded stones beneath her feet.  She pauses, glances down, admires the rugged quilt of color and texture below.  Occasionally she stoops to pick up one special stone that has caught her eye, compliments its beauty, then either drops it in her linen bag or says, “You could use more spa time to soften your edges”, and tosses it back into the roiling waves.






“If you love me, you’ll bring it home to me.”  The most beautiful rock I have seen.  I posted its photo online and received such comments, but the trick was that I had left it on the beach atop that piece of bark I used as a base.  Fractured, crazed, rejoined by some amber mineral and fused to a piece of gray-blue rock then worn down over millennia to a soft palm-sized stone.  I’d never seen its equal.  This unique rock was but a beautiful memory now.  I wondered … and took a chance with the Universe.  When I returned this morning, I found it far too easily, just under the now overturned bark. Billions of rocks on the beach and this one is unique in all the world to me.   


"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world....”    
  ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince 


A black suitcase, black high heeled shoes, and a lump of clothes and a body.  Out of place. Curled on the white limestone stairs near the shore, sleeping.  Why, it’s the elegant lady I noticed while having lunch yesterday.  She had been basking in the sun on the shore side promenade, her shoe-clad foot pointing gracefully straight to the sky.  She seemed at peace and one with the elements surrounding her.  Now I wonder: did she have no place to spend the night inside?   
Does it matter?

 



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