Towering Anticipation

(Photo cred: Will Van Beckum)

Climbing endless wedges of brie-shaped stairs into oblivion leaves one breathless and confused. Where am I going again?

Atop the last smooth stone step you may think you’ve reached the destination, but no, there are still more stairs. These aren’t spiral stairs like the previous thousand steps were. These are made of frail iron and reminiscent of bunk bed ladders.



If you’ve made it past these steps, you’ve made it to the destination. But hovering 200 feet above Trogir at the top of the wobbly bell tower of St. Lawrence’s Cathedral doesn’t give you the opportunity to cease your wheezing.

If I puked up a postcard, this panoramic view of Trogir would come out – the glistening sea and the red-roofed houses sprinkled atop the rocky hills.

Don’t look down; you might lose your nerve. Then, you may try to sprint down the stairs if you get scared. But if that happens, then when it hits you’ll be unprepared and clinging to the railing of a feeble step longing to escape just like you.


Sh, get ready – it’s almost 2 o’clock.

A rusted bell hangs above head, seemingly poised to release a tune so powerful that even the outskirts of town can hear it loud and clear. There are two other weathered bells in the arsenal, ready to strike on cue.



Do I really want to subject myself to this? Hands press into ears protectively, teeth clench in uneasy anticipation.



3.

2.

1…



Silence.

Bells ring from a distant tower.

Guess the bells in this tower don’t work anymore. What a waste of time.

Stop waiting for something monumental to happen. Get off the floor. You can take your hands down from your ears now. Stand up and enjoy the view of a surreal, gaping chunk of history.