When I think of Tuscany, I think of the light. It illuminated dark corners of uneven cobblestones with a preternatural glow. Staring through my bedroom window as it cast out on the Arno River, I registered hundreds of variations of yellow, orange and gold. Especially at sunrise and sunset, the light seemed to pulse, as…… Continue reading Remembering Tuscany : Schiacciata all’uva
At the end of the October, I will run my second marathon. I’ve spent the past couple months reflecting on why I’ve continued running for almost twenty years. Here’s what I came up with: I run to be nicer to people and to myself I run to step out of my own head and back…… Continue reading Why I run
The other weekend I returned to my beloved Florence and wasted no time getting to Trattoria Mario for lunch. A small family-run joint just outside the Mercato Centrale, Mario’s is legendary for doing authentic cucina toscana oh so well. Three years ago when I was living in Florence, I had a chance encounter with a…… Continue reading A bowl of ribollita
This month I am celebrating a birthday. I think I’m in the minority when I say that I enjoy getting older. I’ll admit it’s not fun to watch your body slowly morph into a pudgier version of what it once was, but I will gladly take the physical changes in exchange for the wisdom that…… Continue reading Wise aging
Summer arrived in Florence several weeks ago, and I’m starting to worry. As a result of the inescapable heat wave that threatens to melt frosty Florentine hearts and rob me of any hint of grace and put-togetherness that I might have pulled off when the temperatures were sane, I am in the throes of a…… Continue reading Hot Child in the City
My time in Florence is will end soon. Over time I have learned to appreciate endings rather than dread them. Life mirrors literature in the way real-life endings are like the last chapter of a great book. You don’t want to finish it because it will mark The End. At the same time, it means…… Continue reading Coffee and a brioche
On my walk home last night it started to snow. Naturally people were paralyzed with fear. Never mind that 90 percent of the wimpy precipitation had converted to wet rain by the time it hit anything solid. No better time to whip out the ol’ Canon to take it all in.