One day in Venice
Danil Korzhonov writes: “Today I invite you to spend one day with me in October Venice…”
(Total 72 photos)
Source: Journal/satorifoto
1. 5 am. Venice was again attacked by fog from the sea. Thick, heavy, it pours through narrow channels, climbs into the windows, into jacket pockets, into flower pots, and sits on the slopes of brown roofs. I am standing on the terrace of the Golden House. Fireflies of lonely sleepless apartments flicker in the distance. Bristling roofs with antennas, pipes, hundreds of towers are melting in the cloud of the sea on the horizon. Under the veil of fog is a broken mirror of black water. Venice sleeps. Wrapped up tightly in a jacket, battening down the hatches of my pockets from the cunning fog, I go down to the ground, or rather, to a stone.
2. 6 am. Again a night without sleep - in the pitching of half-asleep, my instinct carries me from one lane to another. Intuition is a big word. More like a sense of smell. Smells of the sea, frozen channel algae. The smells of wood, salted stone, uneven walls, the smell of coffee, houses and cats. In the labyrinths of the tight web of Venice, it is easy to get lost, and easy to find. The fog recedes, the city again descends into the water. Four hundred ladders are lowered, the floodgates are open - a wave runs into the newly arrived armada of one hundred and eighteen ships.
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6.7 am. Outside San Marco, the sun begins to sway on the waves, reflecting on the marble faces of our splashed city of heaven. Black gondolas rub their noses as they warm up before a hot day. Tourist tankers will soon come to board Venice, and black petals will scatter along the canals with small business bees, rhythmically buzzing with barcalore. In the meantime, let's rest our souls by the sea to the sound of the first cups of coffee and the clumsy plop of sleepy gondolas.
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10.8 am. Together with the appearance of the sun, a tender-heavenly fairy tale melts.
Those who love the city with their soul look at each other with a slight smile: Venice disappears in the midday smog. Changes the mask. A heavy autumn suspension of the distilled sea descends on the towers and roofs. In the corridors, passages in the cold walls, the steps of the first passers-by are heard. And the veil falls lower and lower, surrounding the city with a vacuum, hiding people from each other in the cramped marble mines. Only rhythms are heard in the depths under water: the waves sort through millions of sticks of an underwater barrel organ. With age, the heart weakens, the rhythms become softer and quieter. City somewhere already Atlantis.
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20.9 am. The sun of Italy wins: Venice changes its mask again.
Now for a fun, carefree one. Venetians, elegant, strict, hurry to work. Selling gold, renting rooms with half-flooded portholes for fabulous money, conducting tourists. And someone is just in a hurry to school ...
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27. 10 am. The liners have arrived. It's time to go to sleep. The vanity, the continuous endless stream of human bodies, the screams, the heat, the whitish color of the marble walls - now you can't even hear yourself, let alone the city.
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33.6 p.m. By evening, the city is silent.
All the bees fly to the mainland, only the most hardworking ones remain. Yes, and they will soon melt in the sleepy evening haze. Only romantics, regulars of cafes and bars, couples in love will remain on the streets.
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38. There is always life on the Venice highway, even late at night the buses of the Grand Canal bustle, boats park on the markings of turquoise water.
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50.8 p.m. And when evening comes, Venice changes its mask again.
Narrow stone passages, lack of greenery, crowds of people cease to irritate. In the noisy, calm bustle of the evening, you feel much lighter, dearer. The city no longer repels, but attracts and relaxes.
51. Go out to lonely piers, look around at the lights, candles of windows, temples and towers.
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53. Or listen to the sounds of a guitar on the bridge of the Academy, and muffled singing, leaning on the cool railing. Watch the boats, boats, maneuvering in the darkness of the night channel.
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72. And in the morning everything will happen again. Cold fog will carry Venice under the clouds.