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We walk as they walked. Amore, more, ore, re A questioning time Devastated. Surmise
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This little Italy.
Dear Kat,
I made the hop across the pond safely, then skipped from Paris to Florence. I'm sorry that I didn't find a cafe or center sooner. I miss you dearly, and I particularly miss your laughter, and your lovely ready smile. Today we went through the Academia and the Uffizzi... I'm really still in shock at the culture and the shape of the Italian life. The weight of history is something you can feel, ironically uplifting. I think it hit me about the time I was walking around The David in the Academia. There's something fundamentally real about a piece of sculpture that massive. Even seeing the Enunciation and the Adoration wasn't the same. It was like being knocked over by the whole terrible weight of Italian history. There is nothing remotely comparable to the feel of this compact little world. I miss you with each sunrise and slipping second. Bonesario, mi signora.
With abiding adoration
WT
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