Winter Wonderland

It's snowing in Geneva. D'uh! Well, it doesn't usually snow that much in the city. Definitely nearby, because we are surrounded by mountains. My daughter Emilie bounced into my room this morning crowing with excitement. We've been living in Seattle for the past few winters, where snow is a rarity. Adults tend to see snow as a nuisance. We have to get to work, or do errands. The car needs snow tires, we have to shovel the driveway, etc. Growing up and taking on responsibilities tends sap the spontaneity out of us. But when I took the dogs out this morning, grumbling because I really did not want to get out of my warm bed, some of their excitement rubbed off on me. It's Saturday, and the only thing on our agenda is homework. The snow has been falling since early this morning and has the freshness and magic only new snow
can. The apartment is cozy, the coffee is hot. All I have to do (apart from answering the occasional question about cell division)is sit here and watch the flakes fall. Maybe we'll go out later and throw snow at each other.

La Serenissima

Venice is a city of contradictions. It is as impossibly lovely as it is fraying and down at the heels. Its main thoroughfares are crowded with stalls selling cheap trinkets, it's canals are often littered with trash. Yet if you follow some of these narrow, winding streets past the noise and tourists or take a gondola ride away from the Grand Canal, you find yourself gone back in time. The gondola glides under lace like bridges, the damp cobblestones lead to small exquisite churches and quiet, leafy squares. The only sound is the tap tap of your footsteps or the slap of water against the hull. When I visited with my children, we were all captivated. My daughter Emilie vowed to return there to live. We ate gelato and pizza. We traveled up and down the Grand Canal on the vaporetti (water buses), had the most luxurious hot chocolate ever (and the most expensive!)in St. Mark's Square, and bought blown glass and cheap umbrellas ( that blew up in the wind after one day's use). Among the many questions I was left with: why on earth would any one build a city like this in a lagoon? How do its modern citizens keep the sea at bay? How much longer can it possibly stay afloat? At least long enough for me to return.