A young couple have a day in which to see Venice. They have saved and planned for this longer journey, and for months, one photograph—a street scene in Venice—has been for the young man, especially, an emblem of the future possible. He has always been drawn to envisioning. Now they are there, walking in Venice. Must-see tourist destinations seem less important to them than being together and present to their surroundings.
Once he thinks of the photograph and remarks to his wife that it really would be something if they should happen to come upon that place. Searching for one nameless bridge is impossible in the City of Bridges; they would not know in what part of the city to look.
Some hours later, to the wonderment of both, they turn a corner and he recognizes that small and ancient bridge. She takes a photograph of him standing on it. They will have the two photographs to place side by side—the same arches, canopies, roof lines—everything the same, the dream in the one; the actuality in the other. May it be so with all their great hopes and deepest desires, this son and daughter-in-law of mine; may they always arrive at where they have never been and be at home.