It’s a challenge to stay present to the moment on my last day here. I’ve tried to do just that, living here day by for these past twelve days.
My final early morning walk about the city is over, and now am sitting at a favorite café with my usual cappucchino and brioche. It is located on Piazza Spirito, Oltrarno, on the other side of the Arno, the artisan district of the city, where locals come in to sip coffee and read the paper. This morning an elderly gentleman is doing just that. Two different friends have stopped by and told him stories of woe about their dog and their job. He looks up from his paper, listens, but doesn’t say a thing; on they go and he returns to his reading.
I’m interested in ways people listen. Some are really good at it. Like this man, who doesn’t speak, and yet they come.
My final early morning walk about the city is over, and now am sitting at a favorite café with my usual cappucchino and brioche. It is located on Piazza Spirito, Oltrarno, on the other side of the Arno, the artisan district of the city, where locals come in to sip coffee and read the paper. This morning an elderly gentleman is doing just that. Two different friends have stopped by and told him stories of woe about their dog and their job. He looks up from his paper, listens, but doesn’t say a thing; on they go and he returns to his reading.
I’m interested in ways people listen. Some are really good at it. Like this man, who doesn’t speak, and yet they come.