I’ve had my supper and turned out the light. The sky is still pale for the moon is full as I visualize my friends at the Sagra del Bosco with the local families lining up to pay for their orders before finding their assigned tables. I have decided not to go, afraid it would tire me out too much. Too many people, families, friends who know each other, although I always enjoy watching the kids run around with no one to stop them. The numbered trestle tables start filling up, with everyone seated on long wooden benches that you have to clamber over to get to your seat. You wish you had brought a pillow for they are rather hard on your backsides as you wait for your order of fried porcini mushrooms, tagliatelle with truffles or boar sauce, a bottle of local wine.
Now despite the milky sky, it is dark down here on earth as I lie in bed and open the latest Savatteri mystery. Suddenly as I raise my eyes from the page and look out into the dark room I am aware of a constant sound of drums and then realize that there is also a sagra going on down in the valley just below my house. The band is playing, people must be dancing. A bit later, every so often flashes illuminate the sky – fireworks. Not sure whether they are down below, or from some village in the surroundings. Citronella candles run along the wall on the bridge over a stream just before, or after, the new white church that looks like something you would find in a New Mexico desert as painted by Georgia O’Keeffe. Even the inhabitants of this small quarter wonder why they hadn’t simply restored the old church.
Ah, yes. Autumn is here even if the leaves haven’t really started to turn yet. Still the wild cherry tree that was frothy with white blossoms only yesterday is starting to drop its leaves, one by one. Autumn is here and Festivals or Sagras are popping up everywhere. Posters announce that there will be music but above all food.
Families are back from their vacations at the sea, or in the mountains. The change in air is obligatory for the children. In a week or so, schools will be opening and students will cross the threshold beginning a new year. There is excitement in the air but also a feeling of regret that vacations are over. Just last week it was Ferragosto, the mid-August holiday signaling the end of summer. There have been sagras or festivals in August but it is now that they have their heyday. Each town or village has its own, offering temporary employment to the young people who can make pocket money as servers before getting down to the sometimes boring, sometimes stimulating, scholastic year awaiting them.
Erika Bizzarri 
Ciao On my way back to Orvieto…want anything from the States??? See you soon!
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…continue to enjoy your stories. Your comments, I find quite humorous !
Keep them coming! J. Scott-Hathaway
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Dearest Erika,
Thank you so! For a lovely report of this year’s autumnal Sagra del Bisco from your home. How i remember the time I got to accompany you and David, to my first Sagra perhaps 8 or 9 yrs ago now. Precious memories of a magical time and treasured friendships, for which I am so grateful.
much love dearheart, from the oak covered mountains in southern Arizona,
Gianna Jhan
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Dear erika,
I was also able to see this on the blog, with those great fotos. Thanks so much for sending it to me, it’s a wonderful post. And also made me even sorrier we didn’t go to the sagra— james and diane proposed it but ultimately i decided it was probably too much of a challenge for me too, both hearing- wise and maneuverability-wise.
It was great to have time with you yesterday— looking forward to our next visit too. I will bring you anne michaels’s second book, which is much more conventional than fugitive pieces but still excellent. Will see about ordering you the third— i don’t do amazon as a matter of principle but it does make it harder to order stuff! Love and hugs, margaret
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And to think that when we arrived here more than 16 years ago, we had not yet heard the word “sagra”! This blog post of Erika’s —a saga of sagras—brought back joyful memories of the many we attended together over the years. But the local Sagra del Bosco remains our favorite and most poignant, marking as it does the end of the sagra season.
This year felt different because of Erika’s wise decision to re-visit it as she has here—from the safer vantage of her finely crafted words and memories. But we were all there together in spirit, and we were glad that the fried porcini mushrooms and cinghiale pasta she requested as takeout still tasted good to her.
Out of curiosity, I typed “What is a sagra?” into the AI site, Perplexity, whose motto is “Ask anything.” It told me that true to its Latin roots, ”sagra” is linked to the word “sacred.” However, why was I not surprised that it led me to some fact-based information that lacked the soul of Erika’s words?
Thanks to Erika, Our Sagra del Bosco will always be here.
—typed with love by Diane as the autumn sun rises.
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The Sagra is a wonderful autumn tradition! Thank you for this lovely reminder. I am hoping to visit Orvieto while I am in Italy from October 6 through 23. I will email and phone you this week. Be well! Baci e abbracci da James Varah detto il Secondo. Best to Claudio and Lamberto
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