THE HOUSE OF ANGELS, Cappadocia in Turkiye
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^*^CeReN^*^
Aug 7, 2007, 6:37:21 AM8/7/07
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FROM THE FIRST BEATING OF ANGEL WINGS
The first time we saw this land of beautiful horses, Cappadocia, and its magical fairy chimneys, we knew we had to leave our own mark on this land that has been home to different civilizations for centuries.
In Cappadocia nothing is as it seems. We lived this with each throw of the axe and with each stone that we lifted from the soil. As we removed hundreds of cubic meters of dirt from the garden and from the top of the main building, we discovered the remainders of centuries past such items as old guns, a child’s toy, pieces of clay pots once containing delicious meals, and pieces of a tandoor oven tended and slaved over by some anonymous person.
Undiscovered stone ceilings, ancient water canals, the remains of crumbling walls often took us back in time to prior centuries. The roots of a mulberry tree under which our neighbor Auntie Emine used to play and drink tea as a child tell us the story of yesteryear.
Every story that revealed itself with every discovery of something old seemed to us like another segment of a fairy tale. When we closed our eyes, we could almost hear the beating of angel wings in flight…
They whispered to us that this HOUSE of ANGELS was “Heaven on Earth”…
Life, Dream, Peace, Hope, Pleasure, Heaven and Love were there to be discovered in the rooms of the House of Angels…
The first time we saw this land of beautiful horses, Cappadocia, and its magical fairy chimneys, we knew we had to leave our own mark on this land that has been home to different civilizations for centuries.
In Cappadocia nothing is as it seems. We lived this with each throw of the axe and with each stone that we lifted from the soil. As we removed hundreds of cubic meters of dirt from the garden and from the top of the main building, we discovered the remainders of centuries past such items as old guns, a child’s toy, pieces of clay pots once containing delicious meals, and pieces of a tandoor oven tended and slaved over by some anonymous person.
Undiscovered stone ceilings, ancient water canals, the remains of crumbling walls often took us back in time to prior centuries. The roots of a mulberry tree under which our neighbor Auntie Emine used to play and drink tea as a child tell us the story of yesteryear.
Every story that revealed itself with every discovery of something old seemed to us like another segment of a fairy tale. When we closed our eyes, we could almost hear the beating of angel wings in flight…
They whispered to us that this HOUSE of ANGELS was “Heaven on Earth”…
Life, Dream, Peace, Hope, Pleasure, Heaven and Love were there to be discovered in the rooms of the House of Angels…
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