Church Bells and Adventure

I am away. I am away on an adventure.Texts with Cassandra early this morning have reminded me I’ve always loved adventure. Since my first major adventure on my own at 17.

I am in a tiny medieval European village. I awake to the peal of church bells rousing the nearby roosters to prepare to perform their sunrise duty. An hour later the bells cry out again to the workers to come and begin the day’s labor in the fields. I hear a donkey bray.

The bells have sounded this way for centuries, providing order and structure, governance and stability. The antithesis of adventure.  Man can not exist on adventure alone.

A significant part of the adventure includes women. Beautiful women. Intelligent and successful. Literally surrounding me. My beautiful Bella just brought me a fresh coffee. I gaze slack-jawed at the good fortune I have engineered. I am the perpetual  8 year old in the candy shop, who rushes from glass display case to glass display case, unable to choose his favorite.

But there is an almost insurmountable problem in this adventureland paradise. The 8 year-old has no money! Due to circumstance, the candy can not be eaten, even when clearly it wishes to be consumed. The adventure is grand, but alas, not perfect

The boy must await another time to partake of his addiction.




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