Begin at the beginning . . .

Since I have now been here over a week, it is difficult to really begin at the beginning. And really, is there ever a true beginning to any story? Or are we more prone to just emerge from events already in the never ending process that is life? All of that aside, let me begin.
Florence has not had as much snow accumulation in over 20 years as the day I landed. Normally I would want to take that as an omen, but if it is one, it must be good. After the initial shock of cold and stairs wore off, I immediately began to fall in love. I’m not really easy with love, so it seems strange the little effort before Florence knocked my walls down. I’ve said to some of you that I think it is the marriage of spirituality and sensuality. This city pairs opposing forces in a way that is without design, but entirely normal; from the ringing of the bells to the buzzing of the scooters. When I have a camera, I’ll be able to capture images. But even with a recorder there is no way to truly capture the sound. And the sounds add to its mystery and mercurial soul.
But sound is always at the beginning of things, so I’ll leave you that thought, buzzing and tolling, buzzing and tolling. Never a pattern for the buzzing, and never any hurry for the bells. Energy and elegance. One says go, the other says come. 

2 responses to “Begin at the beginning . . .

  1. Wow. Julia you make it seem like I am there. More, more, I want more.

  2. Beautifully said, Pearl! And I thought that ringing and tolling was in my head…

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