Time is all we have. It is the only constant in our lives, the only resources that diminishes at a steady rate and can never be replaced. Time is the master of all things, the meter and measure of our lives. Each moment that passes leaves us with one moment less. It is neither a harsh master nor a loving mistress, but a monotonon, constant and perpetual.
I made a time based decision this morning. We will not go to Bergamo on this trip. Our time is limited, as is all time. Rather than jam so much into a day as to make it uncomfortable and unhappy, I have decided that my last visit to Bergamo was probably my last visit to Bergamo. I am not unhappy with this; Cheryl asked me what I wanted and left the decision up to me.
I will always have a vision of the castello, a view in my mind of the wide valley of the Po river pushing its way from Milan to the Adriatic Sea, looking across the horizon to the edges of Milan to the west, seeing the airport from on high, watching the planes land and noticing the curvature of the earth as it went from west to east. I have a treasure in my mind, a view across time to a day in the past, a day that will live with me as long as I can have it, as long as time will allow.
Today, instead of attempting to recreate something from the past, I will do something new. Instead of doing something for the last time, I will do something for the first time. Today we will drive to Villa Campestri near Florence, where we will stay for a couple of days. Our drive will take us through the Tuscan hills, although we may wander, perhaps heading over the Cinque Terre and down to Pisa along the way. We will explore, taking time to make the drive casual, leaving us free to stop if we please or go as we please, leaving us time to enjoy our day, our time of doing something new.
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