The hot Tuscan sun beats down on my back while a breeze gently swirls my hair in and out of my face. Clouds pass by slowly, light and fluffy, non-threatening today. A dark man in a pressed blue Italian shirt leans out of his window three stories up, peering over the square. His salt and pepper hair contrasts perfectly with the dark behind the window. His watch reflects the sunlight onto the stone building. He has those eyes that draw me in, the ones with the deeply creased lines showing a lifetime lived smiling, enjoying what he's been given.
I sit in the square, suitcase in hand, waiting for my train but unwilling to go inside the stuffy station. I have too many hours to wait and too much of Italy to still soak in. It is my last day in what has been my longest stay in Italy to date. This square reminds me of all the reasons I love this place and keep returning.
There are fragrant roses of pink and white stripes in geometric patterns all over the square. Two tall obelisk stand at opposite ends of the square and when the sun gets too hot I take refuge in their shade. There are multiple cafe's within my eyesight and of course a gelateria. Young men sit talking with their hands while their cigarette smoke spins with each movement. People pass by in a frenzy to catch a train or perhaps a bus, few sit and savor the view.
From here there is the church decorated in stone of green and red hues. And the hills of Fiesole behind the church look green and inviting. If only there were a place I could drop this bag. I could spend this time more wisely but maybe sitting and savoring the moment was just what I needed most. I venture no further than a cafe where I grab a smoothie to stem my hunger and then back out I go to the square to sit and ponder and observe.
The ambulance comes several times by with its blaring horn. These are the horns my boys said they couldn't wait to get away from. They are loud and terrifying and then just down right annoying. The police also pass by more than once. Their uniforms, stylish, make them even more attractive than they otherwise might be. A couple walks hand in hand. They gaze at each other in that newlywed, so in love way.
The man on the balcony finally finishes his phone conversation. I have gazed up occasionally to watch him and imagine who he is talking with. Now he stands, leaning casually over the railing staring down as I gaze up. He is handsome and obviously wealthy based on the hotel where he is staying and the suit which he so elegantly occupies.
I was hoping this day to see my friend but alas work has kept him. His story was one I wanted to hear more of. His story is the kind of story that makes anyone count their blessings. It is tragic and he is young and he should have much more in life. But of course, he is satisfied for now with safety and clothes, a job and food. Why is the world so filled with sadness? Why does life have to be so hard?
And yet here in this square I can forget all of that. I can look at a church built hundreds of years ago that has withstood the tragedies of this life and brought healing to some. I can look around the square and see happiness, contentment and fulfillment. I can gaze from below at the crowd, hiding behind my suitcase and sunglasses while the man gazes from above sheltered by the balcony and distance, both observers of a world in motion, appreciating a moment and sharing perspective.
