Tampa: Day 3 Headless Horses

 When I arrived Wednesday night and walked across Gaslight Park, I was stopped in my tracks by this eerie sight:  a metal works statue of two headless horses, skeleton horses with bones barely connecting hooves and haunches.  I stood, fascinated, by the bits and pieces of metal connecting, separating, the thin strands that held parts together, as contrasted by the flat panels for major swatches of the horses.  What was that about?

 

Things have been busy since Wednesday night, and though I have walked past them a couple of times, tonight was the first night I had time to stop and photograph, and think about what it might represent.  I tend to see symbolism in everything, and seek deeper meaning in everything.  Today came with unexpected pleasures and unexpected difficulties, as most days do I think.  Things you think you will do, you don't or can't, and sometimes, things you did not have an inkling would be a new experience tend to surprise you.

While so far, my "new experiences" average on this trip has not been that great, and the "disappointing experiences" is in the lead, I had one of those unexpected pleasures.  I walked up the street a few blocks to relax after the last workshop, and to locate a place to eat a light supper that might be more enjoyable than my lunch had been.  On Wednesday, first evening I discovered the disturbing headless horses art, I had noted the Crumb and Cork Wine/Cheese/Jazz on the corner.  The food the sidewalk dining patrons were having looked great, and I was intrigued and wanted to go, but that was the end of a long day and seemed to need company to maximize the experience.

Well, that did not happen yesterday or today.  So, whilst walking up the street taking in a few sights and taking photographs, listening to the Friday night sounds of music wafting into the streets, I impulsively walked into the Crumb and Cork.  My original thought was to get my wine and whatever ordered and sit on the sidewalk table to enjoy the last of the pleasant evening.  You know how you have those instantaneous changes of plans for no explicable reason other than it felt like the thing to do?

Joshua introduced himself from behind the bar, and asked if I wanted a table or to sit at the bar.  He said he always enjoyed the company.  While I learned a long time ago to embrace the pleasures of being alone and it does not bother me or make me feel awkward to dine alone in any restaurant, on impulse, I said the bar sounded great.  Turned out, Joshua is the owner, and I enjoyed the most pleasant evening in a long while, savoring my wine experience, cheese, the occasional conversations with Joshua about the wine when a lull in his services permitted it.  I selected the option for a flight of 4 red wines, selected by Joshua, and an accompanying cheese tableau with bread, also selected by Joshua.  I could have picked my own, but feeling adventurous, it seemed like a fun gamble.  It paid off.  The wines were all delicious, and my favorite was one of his two star picks, and perfectly suited to my taste.  I fell in love with a Utah cheese, with a cocoa rind that was one of his 4 picks and seemed to go with every wine.

We conversed about South African wines, and I reserved his last bottle of a pinotage blend from the Helderberg area for tomorrow evening.  I have been there many times, but this is a small family winery and I am not familiar with it, but never pass up the chance for a new experience. Those small family wine farms in South Africa have been among my most amazing discoveries.  So, my invitees will either join me this time for the experience, or once again, I will venture out alone, inhaling deeply of the opportunity to engage in relationship and community of choice.