Embrace the Magic

Embrace the Magic

Spontaneously, the man wearing a red and white checked shirt stepped across the gravel path to the next bench. He extend his hand to the lady in the blue flowered dress. With a gracious curtsey she stood in acceptance. In perfect unison they waltzed gracefully to the melody of The Blue Danube under the cloudless azure sky and bright Tuscan sun covering the Baluardo.

An accomplished violinist perched on the wall a few feet away provided the inspiration.

The magic of the moment unfolded before me as I sat 20 yards away captivated by the haunting violin and the spontaneity of the beautiful scene. They could have been waltzing in the great halls of the Palazzo Pfanner immediately behind them.

The “The Blue Daube” morning began as I rode along the walls toward my bench. I leaned my rusty gold bike against the back of the bench and settled with my manuscript prepared to edit the work I had created the previous afternoon.

I was enjoying the soft, quiet breeze when a pleasant man in a porkpie hat and his canine companion quietly arrived. He chose a comfortable spot on the wall of the Baluardo in the shade of a mature elm tree.

After he removed the violin from its case he left it open at the base of the tree. A few minutes later he struck the first note. The large black Great Pyrenees instantly began to “sing” with him. I laughed out loud. The entertaining personalities of the duo were on full display.

When a young woman walking along the path stopped to chat with the musician he became very animated in a good way. From my distance I could only catch an occasional word, but I sensed she was also a violinist, and they were enjoying the conversation of comrades.

As she walked away a gaggle of tourists ambled along. The empty green benches and the pristine gardens below invited them to rest and take in the beauty. The magic began when the busker struck the first chords of “The Blue Danube.”

When the couple began their waltz their companions reverently formed a circle around them as they embraced the rhythm of the familiar Strauss melody.

For the rest of the day I allowed my imagination free reign as I speculated about the dancers. Were they a married couple celebrating their 50th Wedding Anniversary with a meticulously planned Italian holiday? Was Lucca just one stop on their itinerary? Or were they retired competitive dancers who would never lose the intuition shared by veteran dance partners? Perhaps they were complete strangers prior to the fate filled meeting on a random tour in Italy. Was their mutual appreciation for the waltz the link that would open a new path and a companionable future? The conjecture is limitless.

I wish there was a way I could share my enduring delight with the dancers and the busker. It would be a pleasure to tell them how significant their shared talents were to me. I had returned to Lucca a week earlier, and soon declared this particular green metal bench my private pew. It overlooks the manicured gardens of the Palazzo Pfanner which emanates tranquility. In past visits I chose a bench above the Botanical Gardens of the City of Lucca. The Pfanner bench was equally soothing and serene.

As The Blue Danube scene continued individual cyclists, young families pushing prams and members of a city grounds crew were caught in the mystique. Toddlers were handed coins to drop in the open violin case. Morning walkers paused to enjoy the unexpected treat.

I watched with delight as one of the grounds keepers on the opposite side of the path began waltzing elegantly with his current partner – his weed whacker. Dressed in his bright orange jump suit, they were a rare sight.

Lucca is my happy place. It is a gift. I reunite with my soul every time the taxi ducks under the archway of Porta San Pietro, the entrance to the walled city.

I first visited this second century haven two decades ago. Captured by the unique history and the cobbled streets “inside the walls” I return as often as possible. It always feels like a home coming.

Among the treasures awaiting me in Lucca are friendships established over the past 20 years. The lasting comfort of those relationships allows me to transition into Lucca-life as seamlessly as putting on a comfortable summer dress.

Participating in the Friends of the English Bookshop book club is always a familiar treat. Two decades ago six visitors from four countries were among the founders of the book club including me. It was named after a fledgling, but failed used book store. I feel special admiration for my friend Elspeth, who has given leadership to the group since its inception. During her tenure as a Lucchese resident she has shepherded the club into a multi-national group who share a passion for well written books and appreciate their value in a civilized society.

Every month Elspeth and the band gather around a gigantic table at the International School of Italian Cooking to discuss the book of the month. Chef Gianlucca and his staff provide a delicious array of aperitivi paired with appropriate wines before Cardi launches a lively book analysis. How she negotiated the partnership between the readers and the cooks remains a mystery to me.

The City of Puccini continues to captivate me with the growth of the summer music festivals, and it’s historical commitment to the enrichment of the arts. Musicians from around the globe are nurtured through the Lucca Music Association, the legacy of Luigi Boccherini and the Conservatorio di Musica.

I treasure every moment I spend the city where the magic happens for me. Change has occurred over the past two decades, but I was once told change is the only thing I can count on.

Each morning I bike to my bench on the walls wondering what enticing treat awaits me. Most days it is simply the joy of being present with bird chatter, the cool breezes and a vista of varying stained terra cotta tiled roofs spread across the city against a back drop of distant dark green mountains. The endurance of this ancient city is comforting. I wish the dancers and the violinist enduring joy as I appreciate the gift they left with me.

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