This is the view of the Giudecca Canal from the terrace rooftop of my hotel in Venice, when I visited Italy for the first time last spring. Every night, I reserved the terrace from 7:00 to 8:00 p.m. Alone, I ate gorgonzola dolce and prosciutto crudo and strawberries and bread from the market. Alone, I looked and jotted images and streams of poetry and metaphor and thoughts into my Word Mess (journal). Alone, I waited for all the bells in all the churches to begin ringing at 7:30 p.m.
And so they did ring. Every night, at 7:30. And I, exhilarated, rang with them as I looked and wrote and lived.
I came back from that trip knowing that all I really want is to ring like those bells, to feel that alive, that resounding. So I am starting a segment here called 7:30 Bells. Every Tuesday, I will grab a moment of ringing, write about it here, and post it at 7:30 p.m.
Come and ring with me!