It was a week ago we were sitting in St. Mark’s square enjoying the orchestra and espresso.
Today Lugano is like paradise. Mufasa and I just went for a long mid-day walk. There’s a cool breeze blowing, my hands were even a little chilly by the end. The sun is shining, though, and everything is in bloom. Rose bushes are sprouting red leaves and shoots galore. The commune (town) has planted pansies all along the road around a few well-placed hot pink tulips. The tulips by my back door have grown leaves and stems but no heads and flowers yet.
We walked up behind the town’s soccer stadium, where when there aren’t a lot of leaves we can see all the way down to the lake and across to the San Bernardino pass. There’s a regatta on the lake today — many, many boats. They must be going fast, it’s breezy… no white caps, though, just blue sky, blue lake and white sails big and taut in clumps and groups out and back across the lake to some invisible-from-here buoy.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
– Wendell Berry, “The Peace of Wild Things”
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