|photo credit: Jen|
Suddenly we've acquired a menagerie: two goldfish and four turtles, which we're baby-sitting while their owners are away.
And at this time my remiera, where some two or three or more members are usually coming or going in its boats throughout the year, feels almost like a private garage. When Sandro and I went to row last Friday evening the register showed that not a single other member had signed out a boat that day. And out on the lagoon one rarely sees another boat of vogatori (rowers). Even the agonisti or competitive rowers who engage in the regatte--those top-flight rowers who train every day through the bone-chill of winter--take a break.
Two and a half months of heat and virtually no rain have taken their toll: even the bumptious cicadas filling the trees of Sant' Elena--domineering as the sun through June and July--have subsided to a thin stream of desultory chatter, worn down.
Floating on the lagoon after dinner seems the perfect place to end such lethargic days. We try to get out on it at least three or four times a week.
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