Momentary Blindness no. 1

In great need of rest after a busy, informative, and delicious tour of the Jewish Ghetto, as well as the ascent up the Aventine Hill, I opt for a semi-secluded spot on the grass. I have sat on many types of rock while in Rome, and perhaps even a few patches of grass here and there, but it feels especially necessary to choose a softer product of the earth in this moment. The ground is sturdy and surprisingly comfortable. I have strategically positioned myself underneath the shade of the orange trees that are unique to this park. A strong breeze intensifies the coolness, giving me chills all over. I accept the chills and their rarity, for my time in the sun has been excessive. Though I try to relax and be 'zen,' I cannot help but hear sounds of a large group of people crossing through the park to exit. Their chattering peppers the air while their feet move leisurely through the small pebbles, resulting in a host of sort of pleasant clinking noises. Though I'm unable to make out what they're saying, I can tell that they enjoyed their stay. A much more mellifluous sound, bicycle bells begin to go off. The delicate and delightful 'ting' of the bells marks what sounds like the arrival of another group. I imagine them to be a friendly bunch in search of splendor in the grass. The trees begin shake in the wind. I brace myself for more chills as the gusts get stronger. I hear more evidence of humans: an airplane soars past overhead and the siren of an ambulance or police car wails faintly in the distance. Though these sounds clash with my serene and natural location, they generally do not bother me. I find them to be nothing compared to an average sampling of Manhattan or even Philadelphia's racket. The antithesis of this is the nearby birds, who sing out the most beautiful of songs. Their chirping brings me immense joy, not unlike the city that I find myself in. Out of the blue I finally catch a whiff of the heavenly oranges that grace this garden. Finally. My survey of Roman senses is satisfied.

(Giardino degli Aranci, Aventine Hill, Thursday, May 28, 2015)