Venetian Villas and Castles: places with a heart
Every garden, every villa, every castle that holds stories of a bygone era deserves to be preserved, to be respected. Because beauty is not only in the walls, but in the memories, laughter and dreams of those who loved and love those places with their hearts .
As a child, I lived in an apartment with my family near a Venetian Villa, ancient and mysterious. We didn’t have a garden, so on long summer afternoons, we played on the streets of the neighborhood. My brothers and playmates were passionate about soccer, but I, as an aspiring princess, would have preferred more noble pastimes. Although I was the youngest and the only female, I always ended up being part of the team, even if, on the bench!
One day, my clumsy shot sent the ball flying over the big gate of the mansion. Everyone became angry, and I, trembling, had to ring the bell. The gate was imposing and the mansion hidden among the trees terrified me. It was said to have been built in the 18th century by a noble Venetian family, and the last descendant was a childless old widow whom no one had ever seen. And now, I was going to be the first!
After an interminable wait, the gate opened with a dull sound. With my heart pounding, I crossed the threshold and, for the first time, entered the garden of the mansion. The venerable lady was not a witch, but a very sweet 90-year-old countess suffering from loneliness. She smiled and invited me to play in her garden, and I, curious and happy, followed her.
She accompanied me to the villa’s secret garden: it was a charming English-style romantic park. Lush vegetation and years of neglect had obliterated its entrance, which had to be uncovered among the foliage of weeping willows. It was a magical place: the old trees from which the sun’s rays filtered, the perfect silence broken only by the chirping of birds, a pretty pool of water with a small wooden bridge, leading to an old bench. The villa’s park became my second home: every time I sat there, I felt that time slowed down, as if the wind itself whispered sweet melodies of centuries past.
Places with a soul
That place was not just made of stone and wood. No, it had a soul. Every stone in the mansion, every statue that adorned the garden, seemed to tell stories of another time: tales of brave knights facing battles, elegant ladies whispering secrets under the moonlight, forbidden loves blossoming in the shade of the trees, and intrigue intertwined like wild vines. The ancient walls, covered with ivy, seemed to hold the secrets of a thousand adventures. In that garden, amid the scent of roses and the gentle sound of windblown leaves, every corner was steeped in stories that came to life and spoke to me. And so, day after day, the bench became my secret refuge. Sitting there, I felt that the garden not only held the memories of the past, but also the dreams of those who knew how to listen.
One bad day I rang the doorbell of the mansion and no one opened the door. The elderly countess had been hospitalized and died within a few days. The news hit me like lightning, and the sadness did not end there. Before long, the villa’s fate changed: the property was sold to a local developer who, in no time, cleared the area, tore down the villa and built a modern, comfortable residential building.
Places which enrich our hearts and inspire our minds
My heart broke into a thousand pieces. I felt that the world was losing something unique, something that could not be replaced. It was at that moment that I made a promise: I was to protect those noble and special places, those full of beauty, kindness and harmony, which enrich our hearts and inspire our minds.