Sitting in the Venetian sun, one blissfully warm afternoon, drinking Prosecco – as you do, I looked up and saw this beautiful shuttered window with balcony. We’d wandered away from the crowded touristy areas towards a part of Venice we’d never visited. I’d always known there was a public park at one end, we’d just never wandered down that way before, the allure of the narrow streets, the tiny bridges and the feeling of being deliciously lost without a care in the world being one of the delights of Venice.
This particular afternoon found us in a wide, quiet street, full of small cafes selling delicious food at far more reasonable prices than the usual touristy areas. From where we were sitting we could still people watch to our hearts content without being jostled – it was incredibly peaceful.
I love looking up at windows, especially those with partially opened shutters. I wonder who lives behind them, what they do for a living, what the room is used for, what conversations are held in that room, what tales the walls could tell, the shape of the many pairs of hands which have opened those shutters in the past, what secrets have been hidden in the fabric of the walls.
Behind these particular shutters I know lives a dog. He (or she), stepped out and looked down onto the street towards where we were sitting, decided we posed no threat, and slowly walked back into the cooling shade inside. Sensible dog.
We on the other hand, our Prosecco finished, decided to carry on with our walk – leaving behind this little piece of perfection.