i grabbed my camera, and stepped across the river.
as suddenly as i had made the decision to go, i was there. with the scorching sun on my back and other exposed areas, i was mildly concerned about sunburn and my lack of drinking water, but the scene was too beautiful to let it worry me for long.
i was standing amidst ruins of some sort, while a chirruping tour guide tried to hurry us along. tumbled stones, outlining what was once a glorious, medieval castle now lay in moss covered heaps on the lush grass, and various carvings spoke of a culture long gone. the ruins expanded for miles across the hilly terrain, eventually disappearing into the unknown. as i followed one obviously well traveled member of the group, i kept pointing my camera and shooting, hoping that the battery wouldn’t run down. i had left the case with the spare on the other side of the river, and was concerned that my viewing screen kept coming up black.
suddenly, i found myself in the gift shop with my son. all the other tourists were wandering the aisles full of bits and bobs and useless junk. after rejecting several pleads for one or another thinga-ma-jig, our tour guide walked swiftly in, and herded us down a corridor. he explained that we had to leave immediately if we were going to make it back before the blizzard hit.
as we walked outside, i was momentarily blinded by a swirling snowstorm. we were taking a path through an ancient grave yard full of towering angels and carved stone effigies representing the long lost dead. the white flakes were beautiful gathering on the cold, grey stone.
then as hokey sounds of some instrumental soft rock intruded in my graveyard stroll, i flopped over, and flipped open my cell phone to push the “end” button for the alarm. back to reality.