Tag Archives: water

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Diversity

This is the Trevi Fountain. We can curate the photographs so that we can’t see the crowd. Here is the crowd.

There are lots of changes from 43 years ago, 1980, when I traveled there. More people. We were traveling in January and February 1980, so that’s not a fair comparison. But the crowd is more diverse. At that time we ran into Australian travelers, the same people in hostels as we traveled. We were mostly Caucasian. Now the crowd is much more diverse and I also do not know what language a person will speak. Race is a messy construct anyhow, very unscientific, but I really like the diversity and not knowing what language a person will be fluent in until I hear them speak.

Here is the Vatican Museum. Also crowded and diverse.

Here is a park near the train station in Rome with some “Olympics” for both kids and adults.

We were staying in hostels and only did one formal tour. I wonder if the expensive hotels have the same diversity.

Let’s end with the fountain again.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt.

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Travel kit

The recent trip to Italy is the first vacation trip where I have packed a Life Straw. I have three water filter systems in my camping gear and used one on the Hoh River last summer.

A Life Straw is not on the usual tourist packing lists, but the disasters are feeling too close. Not that a life straw would have helped when dams burst or with an earthquake. If one is lucky enough to survive, then the Life Straw might be helpful.

I also had an emergency blanket, my medical license and band-aids. I should have brought adhesive tape, which is much better for blisters, but I didn’t. I bought some. I put the adhesive tape over a blister and then left it. It stays nicely through showers.

I had a mini tool on my key chain and wanted a knife, but that’s tricky with all those airplanes. My daughter had medicines, including benadryl and acetaminophen and ibuprofen. She is in Europe for a while yet.

My son and a friend were once sent home from Sunday church group for lighting a sock on fire. Except that they had failed. “They should not have matches.” said the director. “They have matches and jack knives.” “Emergency preparedness.” I said. “After all, we may have that earthquake some day.” “No,” said the director. I told my son he could walk, since it’s about half a mile. It was raining. “Bored with the church group?” I said, when he got home. “Mom, we were trying to light a wet sock on fire in the old fountain that doesn’t work. Outside in the rain. We couldn’t even light it.” “Adults are a bit sensitive about teens with matches since the local store burned.” “Yeah,” said my son. “Tell me about it. We were bored.”

We are in an earthquake zone. I wouldn’t need the Life Straw if I am down on the beach under the cliffs, because they are sand and mud and they will come down. There is some luck involved, but it doesn’t stop me from walking the beaches.

Prayers for all of the disaster zones and everyone who has lost friends and family and homes and community.

Our Rotary groups buy a Shelterbox every year, which are sent all over the world with kits to help 20 people. A tent, cooking supplies for the area, water filter and even a few crayons and coloring for kids.

I am not feeling complacent about travel.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: complacent.

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Hostels

I joined my daughter in Venice at a hostel two nights ago. I arrived at about 11:30 pm after about 32 hours of travel. Bus, bus, ferry, taxi, plane, plane, plane, bus, walk. At that time of night, karaoke was going strong at the hostel and I felt fairly ridiculous as the lone grey haired person. The next morning revealed I am not the only one.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: ridiculous.

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Favorite

I used to have a favorite agate, chalcedony nodule
found on the beaches here, during Covid. Surprising me.
I did not expect anything and only long to find something
to sustain me, just a little. I find a stone shaped heart, agate hard
and not clear. Not chalcedony, murky with impurities.
Yet the stone sustains me and I keep walking.
Even when I see that the impurities are on the outside too.
Camouflage, refusing to be washed clean, refusing change.

That one is lost, back in its’ native mud and sand. Someday
it may be polished clear, but it shrinks as it is tossed
among the other stones. It is running out of time and surface area.
It may not be heart shaped any more. My favorite now is clear,
a rich red with tiny streamers of darker red inside. I carry it with me,
I carry it in my heart. It is more nearly shaped like a heart,
a real heart, then the conventional one that is lost.

Be warned, then, that that one may be on the beaches here.
Or it could be that it has already been picked up
and taken, the finder hoping to wash it clean and see
the clear beauty as the light shines through.
Transparency is rare. I walk a mile of beach to find even one
clear stone. Don’t be fooled by that one: the dirt is embedded.
I won’t say never, but the chances of transparency and love
shrinks as it is worn away by the restless tides
and crashing against all the other rocks.

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Chalcedony

Many of my trinkets are rocks. Agates or calcedny nodules or lots of others. Fossil snails and fossil clams.

This agate initially looks better on the ground.

But wait, let’s turn it.

Half clear and half clouded. I found this one on Marrowstone Island.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: trinket.

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Empty

Cupid shoots seven arrows from her quiver.
Eons of experience, she hits where she aims.
Six hit in my heart but the seventh in my liver.
Now I can’t eat gluten and wine gives me pains.
I wonder if hearts are like cats’ lives?
I think it’s seven but it might be nine.
The thought of more arrows gives me hives.
I’ve had enough of love to last through time.
I hope it’s seven and the arrows are done
And Cupid wanders by and fails to see me.
I’ll emulate Hestia and Artemis for fun
And Artemis’s hunt stays protective from the the trees.
The love of friends is enough for me.
An empty quiver will set me free.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: quiver. The statue is Galatea, in Port Townsend.