SUNDAY, MAY 6
Each time I think of leaving Venice, my heart says no. It is strange, the powerful grip I am in. Like a lover that cannot bear to leave his beloved, only longs for more time together. This afternoon, all in a few moments, I saw placid water reflecting harmoniously the blue sky and the colorful light from homes, bridge, and boat. Suddenly, with the whisk of an oar, the water rippled and the perfect picture vanished. So now, my watery Venetian reverie is disturbed by fate. Currents take me onward, to Spain and other adventures.
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