Geneva Day Two-ish

Every day should start with this:

In a room that is appointed like this:

Well, maybe not every day. But some days. And with fresh mango, perfectly ripe. If that doesn’t qualify as miraculous in and of itself, I’m not sure what does. Don’t let the empty seats fool you. This place was full earlier, but I felt it would be rude to take a photo of lots of people I didn’t know.

Speaking of people, there was one woman who I had noticed yesterday and thought I recognized, although I couldn’t place her. She was with someone, and I didn’t want to interrupt. This morning she was alone, but left almost as soon as I arrived. She was dressed distinctively in all black. Her dress was reminiscent of styles worn in the Victorian era with black stockings and boots. She wore a black poke bonnet trimmed in lace, satin, and beadwork. It’s possible that I remember the style of dress more than the person, but I’m fairly sure I’ve met her. In the early 1980’s I did a lot of volunteer work the the United Nations Youth Association and Amnesty International, and I think she dates from that time. Anyway, she had a presence that would have been noticeable even if she weren’t so splendidly dressed. I think her name is Kitty, although my memory is unreliable.

Stranger meetings have happened. Once, when I lived in Perth, Australia, I was walking down the street and ran into someone I had known in Bellingham, Washington. It would be hard to find two places more geographically distant.

And then there was the gentleman in the seat next to me on the flight to London a few days ago. He was wearing an Okemo jacket (Okemo is the name of a ski resort in the town in which I live). Not only does he ski there, his sister owns a house on West Hill. What are the chances? The world is not so very large after all.

So, in the middle of blazing heat, I ventured forth to the waterfront which I had hoped would be cooler. It was pleasant under the trees, but the waterfront itself was practically a blaze (which is oxymoronic, but so be it).

This guy and a bunch of his friends were swanning along. The heat threw a haze over almost everything and the sun was relentless.

This was the view from the walkway to the breakwater. It was well past midday, and everything from the near distance to the horizon was this lovely moody apparition.

Close to the shore, everything was lightwashed like a gently faded 1950’s postcard. The heat seemed to bleach everything.

However, these buildings retained their stoicism and stood at attention. Their crisp symmetry is reassuring.

Fortunately, someone remembered to water the flowers.

Someone found a cool spot on the other side of the breakwater.

And of course the iconic Jet d’eau. It is one of the tallest fountains in the world, although it had a practical purpose when it was built in 1886. There was a hydraulic plant at La Coulouvreniere, and the Jet d’eau was used to release excess pressure. However, it quickly became an attraction, and so it was amplified and moved to a more prominent location on the lake.

And here is one of my favorite things. This piano invites you to stop and play. Several people did, and one of them was quite good. “If music be the food of love, play on.”