Quarteire del Prione                                                         

           Perched above the city after ascending stairs that looked as if they stretched straight up to heaven, the day has a lazy, tranquil, crisp, explore-me feel to it. Clad in a jean skirt and fire engine red “camici,” that resembles her hair, she draws closer.  “Buon giorno,” she says softly, as she sits in the adjacent bench. We sit in a comfortable silence. “It is a beautiful day,” I muster in Italian, breaking the stillness of the moment. A peculiar look of recognition comes over her face as she surveys the foreigner out of the corner of her eye. A slight nod.

           Other more familiar Signore appear and are greeted. Italian rises up around me, like a small orchestra new tones cut off others, and add to the rich sound. A casual glance around reflects that there is life on every tier  these stairs approach—small abodes that have been around for centuries. Perhaps even these women surrounding me with their wrinkles marking their years have witnessed their ebbs and flows. Graffitti flanks the aged reminders—bridging history with the present or perhaps attempting to cover up the past. The suns movement reminds me it is time for me to move on and I begin to make my descent from Quarteire del Prione.  

“Shout with joy to God, all the earth!  Sing to the glory of His name: offer him glory and praise!”  ~Ps. 66:1