The tufty walls of white finally break, the wisps of white fading out in a trail lasting forever. White and blue, be it the sky or the ocean beneath, those two colors dominated every other part of the spectrum here. The mythological currents surrounding the Ionian sea fading away, the warm and bustling waters of the Adriatic sea approach.
Here, land is mainly islands, clusters of relatively small ones or a larger one floating on the blue by itself. Seaplanes dot the sheets of waves below as miniature ports line the coasts of these islands. The smell of salt spray and the sense of peace is of prominence in these areas. Scale-like shimmers of silver spread throughout the water as the sunlight gently caresses the ocean, warm but still refreshing.
As separate as these islands are, they are never lonely. The small ports constructed are filled with the many boats visiting and stationed on these islands, their flags and insignias on a colorful line of display. Seagulls roam around the skies in all their splendor and glory, calling out to both their own species, as well as to the humans below. Meanwhile, the sounds of the bicycle bells as postal services are carried out and the shouts of the sailors occupy the air around, giving a sense of business within these hubs.
Cobblestone roads lead down and up in spirals, seemingly as if from the “Land of Oz” itself, old-fashioned and yet, timeless. The aromas of warm coffee waft by as the sound of laughter and conversation floats through. The relaxed and content sighs of the occupants reflect on their postures and emotions. Once an island where soldiers would dock for supplies and pilots would shell with gunfire and bombs, a turn in time only shows how contrasting the two scenarios could be. At the far corner of the island, comparatively away from the bustling town and ports, what used to be the biggest hospital base on this region of the Adriatic sea, was now reincarnated as one of the most grandiose of hotels, the Adrianna.
“Let us die young – or let us live forever
We don’t have the power but we never say never
Sitting in a sand pit – life is a short trip
The music’s for the sad man….”
The faint melody of a timeless tune flutters into my head as I look out from the balcony and out to the sea. The scales that shimmered in the afternoon heat had turned into silver gashes in the night. The cold air mixed in with a candle-like glow of warmth resonated in my heart. From inside, it seemed as if the music was about to start, with the lights dimming down a bit and a quiet settling over the hall.
The soft tones in an adagio ringing out with an opening cadence marks the rise of the evening’s curtain. The masterful right hand spanning the octave to bring out a melody that seems to weave a story of a passionate and delicate nature. The quartet sitting opposite to him joins in the gathering as the violin molds into a perfect cushion for the treble, while the cello is a bed of feathers for the bass. I gaze out pensively towards the sea from the railing I am leaning on.
In front of me, the Adriatic sea glistened in a billion drops of mercuric silver of the reflection of the stars. A heavenly pathway to the horizon is shining with the graceful gleam of the crescent moon. The air smells very distinctly of a clear sky and blue sea, an aroma appealing like nothing else. However, that beauty is but second priority to me.
The sparkle in your eyes puts all the billion eyes of silver to shame and the music is just background noise compared to the feel of interest and curiosity in your voice as we engage in conversation on a myriad of topics. You emanate a glow of warmth, a halo, call it what you may. It is pure warmth and love, a tender feeling that lasts forever.
The piano reaches an andante now with a crescendo by the strings. Hitting the peak of their swell, the brass, and percussion sections take over. Offering a now ragtime feel accented on the 2nd and 4th beats, the trumpet proceeds to play an amazing jazz piece. The wooden taps of the sticks hitting the edge of the snare and the mesmerizing ride cymbal follow the plucked strings of the upright bass.
With the music covering the whole area in a blanket of dreams, our conversations carry on. A smile and a laugh in the air near us at all times, movement from inside catches our attention. We see that people are dancing, a dashing array of colors as they move slowly to the beat. Recognition dawns on both of our faces as we listen to the music a while longer.
I’m not much of a dancer, but it would be a heinous crime not to ask you to dance to this song. The reverb of the snare drum rings out as the dulcet tones keep sounding. Hand in hand, we sing the lyrics we’ve sung so many times to each other as we move.
“Forever young, I want to be – forever young
Do you really want to live forever – forever and ever….”
You whisper those lyrics as it pounds on my heartstrings and the sparkle in your eyes shine. And I whisper them back to you, as we look out to the forever expanding silver horizon.
Featured Image Courtesy: https://bit.ly/30d6P6S