two delightful excursions, part II

Today also had lovely things in store. I went to the Janiculum, which is up a very very steep hill but not, apparently, one of the famous seven hills of Rome. It should be though - I had to climb this stair to get there, and found a curious plaque on the way, which translates to "My way of seeing things is sometimes unsophisticated and immature, yet sincere like the children on the stairs at Viale Glorioso." Of course this is at the bottom of the stair - at the top is a somewhat more sobering, cautionary plaque about a poor teenager who fell down them in 1849. So the moral of the story is have fun but for goodness' sake be careful!





While I was at the Janiculum, I spent my time meandering, finding a tiny stone gazebo to rest and read, until the shade moved past me, and I, in turn, moved on. I felt a sense of peace and tranquility (and plain old joy, as shown here when I found it).



Moseying along the path below the old city wall, I encountered an elderly man walking his dog. The man - but not his dog - looked uncannily like my friend from the movie Up!. At first I thought he was tending the greenery, but I realized after passing him and noting his age, that he was just slowly making his way over a cedar tree that had fallen on the path. In my memory of this day, this man will represent my Grandpa Erv, who I blogged about before this trip, and who passed away while I was at the Janiculum. I like the idea that his spirit - so kind, so dear - was with me while the flora and breezes comforted my senses.



As I left, I climbed down many stairs, and came to a locked gate with no apparent exit. But, with patience - good for so many things in life! - I noticed an opening in the fence, and made my way through. Then, to document my journey up, and down again, I photographed this joiner. My favorite part is the way the light plays on the leaves. The thing about joiners is that you can never get them just right - it is a 3-D world represented in 2-D so, impossible to replicate. One must only be satisfied with the effect, and tolerant (even welcoming) of imperfection - another useful tool that I will stow away for my continued journey.