A summer afternoon in Fregene
before the storm.
The empy beach,
sand swirling around,
seagulls playing up above.
Our picnic plans messed out
but what we found was just as good
chasing light through photography
Seeking shelter on a rainy afternoon,
I ended up in an unexpected parallel dimension,
warm and humid,
where silence reigned and time seemed to have stopped.
No birds or animal sounds.
No wind among the leaves.
Just the sound of water hissing from somewhere.
And within this silence,
one could almost feel all these green creatures,
big and small, breathe and grow.
Each one in its own particular way.
But all turned towards the light.
I told her: 8 years? No way. 7 were too many already, are you kidding me?
She laughed all over the place: 8, yes!
Me: 8, no! And then maybe, 9 or 10? And then, what else
On she laughed: 8, yes!
I could have gone on and on for ages, just to hear her laugh that way.
I said: tell me, will you still give me sweet kisses when you are 8?
Kindly, she replied: of course, and at 9 and 10 too, and when I’m grown-up and forever and forever!
Me: Uhm, are you sure? Well, in that case, you may turn 8. But 9…no way
She laughed all over the place: 9 yes!
And this is the true story of how this sweet bird came to turn 8.
(but 9… you guess it right?)
Rome is a light that you’d recognize anywhere.
A technicolor sky, reflections on the river and birds flying up above.
It’s the great beauty, flowered balconies, crowded restaurants and open bars.
A traffic mess, cars anywhere, dirty streets, messy public services.
It’s a never-ending vacation, a mellow and joyful decadence.
Rome equals time slowing down.
And finding yourself by the river over and over, catching a different sunset each time.
Going back to this square, tiptoeing. So many people, flowers, candels. Flashes and cameras everywhere as in a morbid reality show. Being tempted to back away. Finding strenght and holding one’s hand to thread sidewalks that have long been familiar and friendly. In summertime, wintertime. Alone, with friends. Eyes wide open. To not let anything go unseen. Making myself go back once, twice, three, four times until the fear is under control. Covered in new laughters and memories.
Because Life is so beautiful still. And there is still so much so see and live and cherish. Because Life isn’t shorter or more fragile today than it was before. It was and still is one blink of the eye. There are no more or less questions, or certainties. Except that there is Light and there are shadows. We only have the power to use our freedom to look for the Light even in the darkest hour. And to carry it forward.
Peace out, friends.
There is light, there are shadows. There’s a time for thinking over, evaluating, getting ready. A time for waiting, that might seem neverending and useless. But it never is. Because every time, a day comes when you wake up and it’s time for action. For actually seeing yourself doing the very thing you had geared up for for so long. So long without anything happening that you were almost loosing the faith. And there it comes, that day. And when it comes, each and every time, it takes you by surprise. As a flower deciding to bloom on a Tuesday rather than a Saturday, on a morning rather than an afternoon. It might seem by chance but it isn’t and you know it. It’s the result of countless rain drops and sun rays and chains of events, some of which are visible and some will never be known. And it’s utterly amazing, isn’t it? But even more amazing is the fact that on that day everything suddenly appears cristal clear and simple. Oh so very simple. And even though you are scared and you don’t know how you’re going to do it, deep down inside you’re at peace, finally, because you know, once again, that everything is gonna be just fine.
Wishing you a sweet evening friends
Guardando indietro a questa strana estate della memoria
riscopro con una punta di sorpresa
un’intera collezione d’istantanee di luce e acqua,
albe e tramonti, in riva al mare.
Ed è così allora che me la voglio ricordare.
Dolce sera, cari amici
Looking back upon this odd summer of mine
with a pinch of surprise I have found
a whole set of snapshots of light and water,
dawns and sunsets, by the sea.
I’ll remember it like that then.