Vernazza's harbor, tucked safely away from the Mediterranean behind its seawall, is crowded with fishing boats and cafe tables shaded by brilliantly colored umbrellas. Cats prowl among the sea-scented boats and sleep on their canvas covers. The afternoon is indolently peaceful in the hazy warmth.

On the table sits wine from the vineyards that cling to the terraced cliffs towering above the village. The wine, dry and bright, exudes the poetry of place, the undefinable sense of being and belonging. The rocky coast, blue with distance, stretches on, fading into the haze-painted blending of sea and sky.

Red Umbrellas, Vernazza, Italy By Larry Dowell

On the San Antonio Mission Trail during the hottest summer ever in central Texas. Not the hottest temperatures, but consistently, day after day, 100°-105°. But it seems appropriate to see these Spanish Colonial treasures in this dry insistent heat. The nearby San Antonio traffic and planes from the Air Force bases scattering the area fade from thought, replaced by a sense of history and survival and persistence. This the frontier of Indians and Spanish monks, the 1730's, long before cowboys and ranchers and railroads and the struggle to make Texas it's own country and then a state of the Union. God, the Catholic God, and Catholic education were the tools for civilizing the Indian culture, although guns were the backing authority. This can be seen in the gun ports of the thick stone fortifications around some of the missions.

Each of the five missions glows with it's on unique aura; but Mission Espada, the smallest and furthest from the Alamo and the city center, is the jewel. It is still used as the neighborhood church and it glows with an indescribable peace and welcoming. The scent of incense and fresh flowers floats in the air and a timeless sense of place and belonging touches you as you enter.