Like sand through an hourglass...

On the flight to Rome I watched a scifi-thriller movie titled Lucy. It describes how if as humans we could access the full capacity of our minds, we could impact time -make it run whichever way, to go back to the past and see it all with fresh eyes. On the vaporetto to Murano, I was reminded of this. Across the lagoon, the sun truly sparkled on the emerald water. One man alone, standing on a small fishing vessel casting a net-had he been there hours or centuries completing this task?

Between Murano and Burano, on a small outcrop of an island no larger than a regular block of land, remains of an ancient Palazzo rise from the ground. Not enough land to be self sufficient, perhaps its inhabitants relied on the produce of the sea and what it could sail in from the other islands. Centuries old, the passage of time and the elements had not been kind. The roof long gone, the red brick walls crumbling to the ground, hardy plant life taking back the pathways and the timber window shutters that remained, hanging in disrepair. Who had looked out these windows across the lagoon? Who had tended the terrace bringing in the herbs and flowers? Who had left and why?

Much has been written of the twin islands of Murano and Burano...tiny jewels of colour and activity out in the Venetian lagoon. Perhaps not so much of the charming restaurants and the fresh seafood. Yes they are there, many of them, for the tourists but one can still find charm and character. Sitting on the terrace of one such establishment on Burano, the sun shining, the plates of pasta loaded with fresh crab and shrimp and a glass of pinot grigio made the day perfect. Amused even by the platter of fresh fish brought out on display for inspection and selection to the table next to me.

Could live forever on bread and wine

Spaghetti with King red crab

Fish anyone?

Each day that I have been here in Italy I have been conscious of the speed with which time flies. Trying to ensure I 'am in the moment' and to breathe in each experience so it settles deep but I struggle. Time goes too fast. Standing in the Roman Forum near Caesar's Senate House one can place one's hand on the centuries that have passed, hand print to imaginary thousands of other hands in this same place, connecting us by more than what I truly feel separates us. Last night,with the curtains drawn I fall asleep to the sound of boats passing on the canal below...putting me to sleep the way rain hitting a tin roof can.

This morning I am taking my time. 13 1/2 hours sleep and I am breakfasting in bed. The view from my window shows me the marble pilasters and crumbling framework of the building opposite, its terracotta roof tiles mossed over by the weather and centuries of disrepair. I ask myself the same questions - who else has looked out these windows across the canal? Who tended the terrace and brought in the flowers? Who had lived and loved here other now than I?

My mother's favourite TV show was Days of Our Lives..and to paraphrase, time is like sand in an hourglass, so go the days of our lives.