Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Vera Bradley Bags, Lancaster, Pa

OCEANOmare

Technically the Adriatic Sea is a sea, not an ocean ... I am swayed by Alessandro Baricco. In fact, I just finished reading his book, Oceanomare precisely. It 's a fabulous book, Baricco is really great with words. Even with his other books had managed to leave me breathless (for example Castles of anger ), but with Oceanomare sent me literally in ecstasy: his surreal characters, his digressions on the sea, the ocean ... To understand you must first read the book and above all to be as much as I love the sea. And "love the sea" does not mean fans of the beaches in summer, sunbathers, customs and bathrooms, none of this. He really loves the sea when you can appreciate all year round, even in autumn, winter and spring. Think about it: with the beaches crowded with bathers invaded by water, the air drenched with the smell of suntan lotion and voices of people, perhaps unable to grasp the true essence of the sea? I think not. In summer I can really enjoy the sea only in the early morning (between 5 and 7) or evening (at 19-21), on the beach when there are only two: myself and the sea.
Will that September is my month, but the sea of \u200b\u200bSeptember is the best. I have many fond memories of the sea at this time. One in particular is memorable for me.
was the second half of September 1997. It was a Sunday morning. Dad and I were around Pescara. It was a beautiful sunny day, but the fall was just around the corner and the air was fresh.
"Where are you going?" - I asked my father.
"The sea!" - I answered, smiling.
We went to the beach to walk barefoot on the shore, making waves sometimes reach. The sea was very calm, smooth as glass. Despite the beautiful day, the beach was empty. It was so beautiful the sea, my father and I have decided to take us the last swim of the season. We threw water in clothes. The water was cold!
It was a beautiful day. Jealously guards that day the laughter of my father and from splashing water, dips that made me do in taking my shoulder, ran down to the rocks ... Nice to have memories like that.
And dig up old memories, I decided to live out new ones.
A couple of days ago I took the car and I am going to give me a ride as my usual. I just love driving: to hear the engine, its vibrations on the pedals, shift gears, go fast, tighten the wheel ... too good. When I take the machine is for the pure pleasure of driving and getting lost on streets that do not know or do not remember (or at least I only remember when I review).
I left the parking lot at home (it was about 18:30) and I headed towards the waterfront. Once there, I turned left: north. I drove
north along the edge of the sea. At the end of Montesilvano, to keep going up, I've been forced to return inward to reach the bridge and cross the River. Once in Marina di Città Sant'Angelo, the first indication for the sea, I turned right and I continued. Sometimes I was forced to return to the inside, but then every time as soon as possible back on the Riviera. These beautiful straight roads, framed by tall pines.
was about 19 when I came in Torre Cerrano: it is fabulous. Loomed high on the gray background of a gray sky, illuminated from below by some spots of white light. A show.
I still continued to drive north. Again, the road continued parallel to the sea, but more inward. A little before Pineto, the brown sign "sea", I have turned right. This time, however, the road ended in a little parking and the waterfront had to walk. There was not a living soul.
Just me and the sea.
I left the car there and went to the beach. The air was cool, almost cold, soaked with moisture. The sky was gray, filled with clouds with bad intentions. The sea was in the storm waves beat upon the beach. The wind blew hard.
wonderful show.
I stretched on the wet sand: spadizzata completely, waiting rain. I was dressed in a gray suit, I was pendant with the sky.
I was a little bit there, forgetting the cold and moisture that penetrated the clothing.
I closed my eyes and smelling of the sea.
The smell of salt filled me, the voice of the sea lulled me, the wind caressed me.
This is the Sea.
In these moments they capture the essence, I appreciate the beauty, I recognize the majesty.
When it started to rain, I ran into the car. Before boarding, I have shaken the sand from clothes and hair (if not those who felt the car then Mommo for "beach"?). I restarted the engine and I went again to the north, perdendendomi of my thoughts. The call
Momma brought me back to reality: "Where are you?"
"In turn, soon I get home."
I had not even noticed that the sun was gone ... were about 20 and I had arrived in Roseto degli Abruzzi. To be quick, I embarked on the highway and I am back home.

That's all folks!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Wedding Weekend Letter To Guests

shine on your crazy diamond

Simply fantastic!