Thursday, July 31, 2014

The Mountains and the Sea

Marina Grande, Sorrento

As July 2014 ends here in the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo mountains, my thoughts are on the Mediterranean.  Love of New Mexico, its dramatic landscapes, traditions and culture remains strong, but the lifelong attraction to oceans sounds a call for return to the sea.  Boyhood on the beaches of Chesapeake Bay and the Jersey Shore; six trans-Atlantic crossings on troop ships as well as the great Italian passenger liners; ferries in Puget Sound, the Aegean Sea, the Sea of Cortez, Golfo di Napoli, the Strait of Messina, and the crossing from Gibraltar to Tangier; jaunts along Liguria's Golfo di Tigullio, the coasts of California and Baja Mexico, the sands of Oahu and the Bay of Biscay, the shore of Cascais in the Estoril -- these plus countless other inlets, coves, marinas have fostered a love of the waters which decades in the mountains have never depleted.  Santa Fe's monsoon season with its thundering rainstorms, usually followed with bright turquoise skies frequently ribboned by colorful rainbows, its magnificent fiery sunsets and cool, brilliantly sun-splashed dawns is hard to beat as a place to spend one's summer. Yet, this year I yearn to look on and hear the sea.


Of the many Julys enjoyed on the water or at its edge, it is Sorrento for which I most feel nostalgia in this mid-summer month.  July in Sorrento is a time of warm bright sunshine and cool breezes from the Bay of Naples, colorful fiestas, street stalls overflowing with fresh vegetables and fruits of the sea, cheerful crowds at sidewalk cafes and ristorante, crowded beaches, everywhere the acknowledgment that this is the best of times, to be grasped to the full, savored. Many concerts and exhibits are available, presented in historic venues of great beauty. And always that sparkling sea, dotted with fishermen's boats and the ferries transporting commuters, vacationers and revelers to Capri, Ischia and Procida. Across the water, the stunning panorama of distant Vesuvius, at its base Pompeii and Napoli. In July, too, is celebrated on the 16th the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel with a water procession of boats laden with the Virgin's statue and banners, flowers, musicians -- instrumentalists and choruses -- accompanied and saluted by larger craft shooting huge streams of water into the skies.  On the 29th, the feast of Sant' Anna begins at her church in Marina Grande, her statue carried aloft in a large procession which climbs the heights to the main streets of Sorrento. On return to Marina Grande, the statue is held facing the sea, devotions imploring the Virgin's safety for the many fishermen who sail from here for long working weeks in far reaches of the Mediterranean. Out in the sea, remotely-controlled fireworks from a barge illuminate the dusk and the gathering night with huge bursts of colorful patterns reflected in the darkening water. Frequent cannon shots are fired, audible evidence for miles around of the honor being bestowed on Marina Grande's patron saint. Well beyond midnight when abed, the wonders of Sorrento in July are difficult to forfeit. Celebratory cannon is still being fired. pedestrians cajole in the streets, many of them singing the traditional beloved Neapolitan songs of the area. One young man's rendering of Core N'grato as dawn approaches can break the heart. One listens and marvels. Sleep can wait.


On one of my last visits to Sorrento in July, I noticed an elderly man seated on a bench at the belvedere where I went each morning to greet the sea. And became aware that if I returned late in the day to view the sunset, he was still there. Younger than he, not yet acquainted with the eccentricities of advanced age, I grew bold enough to draw him into conversation, wondering if during long days at the belvedere he had need or want of anything. No, he answered, he brought along bread, a flask of vino, there was a gelato bar with restroom nearby, and the spectacle of gorgeous vistas and water traffic was never-ending. I learned that he was from Spoleto, born and raised in Umbria which he dearly loved, but service in the Italian Navy had fostered a passion for the sea to which he now made a yearly visit. "You say you know my area," he said, "have been to Assisi, Perugia, toured the countryside. You've seen our hill-towns, vineyards and mountains, the artistic splendors. I assume you've some concept of how I've loved Umbria all my life." He then fell silent, and I did not pursue more conversation. We watched lights on prows of small boats of fishermen no doubt hopeful of evening calamari catches. A masted sailboat, silhouetted against the red sky, was rounding the far point of Penisola Sorrentina. After a while, I heard the Umbrian speak again, more to himself than to me: "I love my mountains and I love the sea. Not living in a region which has both, I make -- despite many obstacles -- this essential annual pilgrimage." 



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