The quality of Venice that accomplishes what religion so often cannot is that Venice has made peace with the waters. It is not merely pleasant that the sea flows through, grasping the city like tendrils of vine, and, depending upon the light, making alleys and avenues of emerald and sapphire, Citi s a brave acceptance of dissolution and an unflinching settlement with death. Though in Venice you may sit in courtyards of stone, and your heels may click up marble stairs, you cannot move without riding upon or crossing the waters that someday will carry you in dissolution to the sea.
In Mark Helprin's book "The Pacific and Other Stories," the author reflects on the unique relationship between Venice and its surrounding waters. He suggests that Venice finds a harmony with the sea that transcends what religion often offers. The city's physical structure, intertwined with the water, creates a serene beauty that changes with the light, symbolizing a deep acceptance of life's transience and inevitable decay.
Helprin emphasizes that while Venice boasts impressive architecture and stone courtyards, the ever-present waters shape the city's identity. Every movement within the city inevitably involves this elemental force, which serves as a poignant reminder of mortality and the natural cycle of life and death, illustrating a profound philosophical acceptance of change and dissolution.