A strong brutally frigid bora
wind, of the sort we had last week, has a way of scouring open spaces of everything and everyone: stalls, vendors, tourists, passersby, even pigeons and seagulls. And sometimes in this unaccustomed emptiness you finally see things--like all the colors and shapes here--of a scene you passed through countless times without ever noticing before. The fantastical ordinary.
And I walk through it nearly every day, Letizia, and don't see it....Delete