Short Sequences

From atop the brilliant structure, the city of Paris sparkled with its colorful lights. The busy street noises could not be heard from this high up. The arguments and deadlines all came to a halt. Everything looked pristine and neat. In the distance the Sacre Coeur glowed in its white light. The Seine River peacefully carried boats of tourists. Notre Dame’s belles were so faintly heard from the peak of the Eiffel Tower. I point out all the Parisian landmarks with complete ecstasy.

~ ~ ~

The grass is cool against my skin. We sit and admire the spectacular light show. The entire tower is completely engulfed by sparkling lights. Tourists and natives alike pause to see the glimmering tower. Some watch in awe. Others mutter about their tired feet. Some distance away a baby cries. Someone is hungry nearby. With the abundance of people around the tower, it’s hard not to be sucked into their conversations. While someone is laughing merrily by the fence, another couple argues about money or direction or something. I am only the silent observer sitting underneath the tower’s beauty.
“It’s not coming out correctly in my pictures!” I hear someone say.

~ ~ ~

There in our hotel room we collapse wearily into our beds.
“The weather is awful!”
“It’s humid and I need a shower!”
“We’ve been walking all day and my feet are aching!”
In the summer heat, everyone has become rather unpleasant. I sit and sigh, my travel book open, and I try to read.
There in a foreign city, all the comforts of home are gone. My own bed, my own shower, my own reminders of home. Instead, the luggage’s stand against the walls. Our toiletries line the bathroom counter. My personal space now includes three others. My bed doesn’t feel friendly.

~ ~ ~

Alas, I am alone. It is peaceful and quiet in my head. The surrounding tourists blur together and all I hear is me. The beautiful Italian ruins are reminders of the history of years ago. Their legacies and their mistakes. I bask in the beauty of the architecture as I am alone with my camera. A couple interrupts my reverie and asks if I can take a picture for them. I happily oblige and upon their thanks, I return to my personal bubble, intoxicated by the sheer excitement that I and the travelers around me feel. The amazing walls that have crumbled and weathered away show no signs of weakness. Their immense size, though beaten and damaged, stand ever so tall with their stories ready to be told. I close my eyes and listen.

~ ~ ~

The metal bars and gates are clear indications of the day and age we are in. everyone has a digital camera glued to their hands. What a different view it must be to see the brilliance of man in a two by three inch screen. I steadily climb the rugged steps of the Coliseum eager to absorb in all that has occurred here. The fights, the crowds screaming, the Emperor with his bemused smile. Then I stop and wonder what all these tourists are thinking. The immense capacity of man’s intellect. The power of man’s strength. All of it combined right here, right now. Thousands of years’ work present here all in the same place under the same sky.

~ ~ ~

There is a stone hallway in which I rejoin my fellow companions. Water bottles in one hand, cameras in the other, their faces show signs of exhaustion from the walking and the heat. I smile brilliantly in return.