The Italian Lake | Harrisburg, PA
(My childhood was spent walking along these cobblestone walkways, sitting beneath the trees, listen to this fountain's lullaby.)
There is a river at the foot of the hill, setting the frame for infinite sunsets, sending diamonds across the rapid water. There is the glow of the sun, painting the sky above with vibrancy and warmth, kissing your cheeks below. There are walks along the riverbed, serving up the strong embrace of the free-spirited wind. You take your stride across the bridge, strung with dancing lights, to the city’s island, snug between the river’s embrace. City lights shining back at you, surrounding life now stands still.
There is the lake, nestled in the ground, quietly escaping from all life that surrounds it. The green hills embrace it gently as the flora graces its lovely fragrance amongst its visitors. The lily pads, soft white bulbs bursting from their beds, stretch themselves across the water’s surface. You take your stride across the bridge, composed in rouge, to the center of this Renaissance universe. From beneath, the white swans elegantly glide amongst the lilies, fish nipping at their feet. Center stage, Dance of Eternal Spring, mused by art, music and dance; the sounds of the classical fountain bring you home.