Finally it got hot in Italy

Finally after the rains of May and June the sky went a brutal blue day after day and the ancient stones warmed and the air grew hot  and everyone slowed down, even the animals. The dogs that barked all winter and spring now lie on the concrete and let me pass. Even the motorcycles sound lazy. Now the weather is barefoot, short-haired, slow and workless, without ambition, a weather of waiting, of warm skin and patience, of early mornings and late nights, of swallows and cicadas and midnight tennis and boys playing calcio in the basketball courts.

Looking down at the Loggiato from way up by the Library and the old Etruscan grounds

Looking down at the Loggiato from way up by the Library and the old Etruscan grounds

How it came to be that our apartment door opens onto the Loggiato Vasariano, where in summer people eat pizza at outdoor tables and sometimes watch soccer projected on the wall above our door is that I fell in love with this apartment because it had the best views and the most mystery. It has three views. To the south is the castle Montecchio:

Montecchio in the morning with arrow

To the east is the bell tower of the Chiesa di Collegiata, backlit in the morning sun.

Bell tower in morning mistAnd to the north the window of our bedroom looks over the Piazza del Municipio itself. This is what we saw the other evening out our bedroom window:

Norma looking out the window

 

View from our window (flags flying)
I have just come in from sitting on the wall of the Loggiato Vasariano talking about the heat and Hemingway with my Italian friend Walter who is discontented. Walter is discontented because he loved Florence but he moved to Castiglion Fiorentino to be with his daughter and then his daughter moved to London. Now the Brexit may bring his daughter back to Italy which would make Walter happy.

I do not know too much else. I know we have a writing workshop in France at the end of August and there are still spots available. I know I left the United States and do not want to go back any time soon but maybe eventually to take care of some business in San Francisco and see friends. I know there is a paradox at work in that the same rapacious capitalism that was making life unpleasant in San Francisco also offered us a convenient exit so I am here in exile looking on with horror as America gets weirder and more violent every day.

Drop me a line: Piazza del Municipio, 7, Castiglion Fiorentino (AR) 52043, ITALY

p.s. That red arrow in the picture at the top, that points to our apartment. The castle in the background is Montecchio, and the bell tower is the Chiesa di Collegiata