Threshold to an Infatuation

Emerging onto the Fondamenta S. Lucia was more than crossing the physical threshold from Venice’s railway station onto the streets of a new city.  This was Venice, after all, where the sights and sounds are like nowhere else on earth.  Here, crossing this mundane threshold is like disappearing down an elegant rococo rabbit hole into a world of fantasy, history and sensual beauty.

In reality, of course, you’re met by the sight of tiny, perfect, S. Simeon Picolo, across the Grand Canal, and though the tourists thronging the steps onto the Fondamenta may be less well dressed than in days gone by (and yes, more tightly packed!), the sense of magic remains.  I’d have taken a photograph, last time I arrived, except I was an arm shy, trying to manipulate a walking frame, an unusually bulky suitcase, and a bulging shoulder bag – where my camera seemed to be buried beneath unaccountable layers of necessities that seemed to have accumulated during my trip down from Turbenthal.  It was unexpectedly warm for November, especially since we’d had the season’s first snow, crossing The Alps.

Last time I was here, November, and December too, were misty, mysterious, and bone-chillingly cold but that didn’t deter the water sprites and other magic-weavers from accompanying me across to the Vaporetto, chattering and whispering, reminding me of my allegiance to La Serenissima’s charms.  No dears, I’d not forgotten.  See, I’ve returned already.  I’ve changed my plans.  If you’ll help me overcome my lack of  Lira, I could stay till Christmas.  And indeed they did, and so I did, and so my infatuation with Venice deepened.

Challenging us to post our interpretations of threshold, this week’s WP Photo Challenge immediately prompted these memories of how a few steps across a lobby changed my life.  So lets visit some other Venetian thresholds, just for fun!