the carousel

My retired life has become too busy.  They say this happens.   

It seems not so long ago that Spoke and I spent the days following Christmas greeting the New Year in Florence.  Only a couple of years were we gifted with sunny, fifty degrees days for most often Firenze was damp or downright cold, the city's centuries old gray stone walls enveloping us in the chill on every walk.  

One Natale we found ourselves by this piazza, the warm glow of the merry-go-round lights spotted from a distance, beckoned us to take a closer look.

I was a stranger looking in, a tourist thrilled at the sight but with no thoughts of jumping on a painted horse and taking a ride.

Our traveling days came to an end and our retirement these many years later is very much what we planned; days and evenings of domestic leisure filled with food, wine, family and friends, books, film, music, quiet, art, nature, beauty.  Life was paced and predictable until I did that very thing; I jumped upon a local carousel.

They say make a plan and you'll hear God laugh. . .  

I chose this merry-go-round for it is majestic.  The fillies are beautiful, the music is grand, and riding with others is fun, often daring.  Now the days fly by and I'm busier than ever, be it body or mind or both.  I am productive and creative on this ride, happy to canter while those around me seem to have mounted flying horses.                          

With admiration, I watch them reach for the brass ring.  I do not desire another ring.

Being on this merry-go-round looking out, is magical I admit, but my biggest thrill comes when the spinning halts, the lights go out, the music ends and Spoke helps me step down.  

My feet firmly planted on solid ground again, seeing the carousel from a distance, is when I hear the laughter.  Big belly laughs, loud and clear.