What is Befana:The Befana or Epiphany is the arrival of the Three Kings with theirgifts on January 6th. Over the years, I sent a little girl who lived inthe United States some of the Michelangeli frogs. She will now soon bea mother and the frogs will be bequeathed to a newborn child. Thestory was written forContinue reading “Befana”
Author Archives: Erika Bizzarri
The Watcher: Sicily continued II
Monreale One didn’t need the Pied Piper’s flute to be surrounded by children. A camera would do, but a sketch book was even better. People were sometimes suspicious of a camera –not sure what was being photographed. And perhaps still felt that a photograph took part of their soul. But they loved to watch theContinue reading “The Watcher: Sicily continued II”
Time
Was there ever a time without time, with what was and is and what will be? It is the clock that tells us that now has given way to past, heedless of the future. Only you and I project ourselves into time as yet unborn as we try to stop its onward march with allContinue reading “Time”
The Watcher: Sicily
Sicily February 1956 The boat for Sicily left in the evening. After watching the lights of Naples fade in the distance, I ate a good dinner and then slept till dawn. Sunrise and rocks on the horizon turned into the mountains of Sicily. Steep and stony, except for a beach and a plain that wasContinue reading “The Watcher: Sicily”
Christmas Aftermath 2016
Ribbons, yarn, cord Tied in a bow, knotted, looped Narrow, wide, twisted, flat Purple twine Scarlet satin Glittering gold Leftovers from Christmases past The twine my son, practical The scarlet satin, older friends Each ribbon matches the person who chose it, wrapped the package, thought of you and thought of me.
The Watcher: Rome continued III
I was late. I should have been in Santa Maria in Trastevere half an hour ago. And now I could find no sign of Roger. The church was shrouded in darkness. The saints marching across the gold mosaic under the eaves were quiet and withdrawn. Inside a sermon was in progress. I entered silently andContinue reading “The Watcher: Rome continued III”
Orvieto As It Was…And Is: The Grand Tour
Click Here to purchase Orvieto As It Was…And Is So many things happen by chance, coincidence. Little did I think that when a friend insisted that I accompany him to meet a former school teacher in a village about 15 minutes from Orvieto that I would end up marrying him and moving there. But alsoContinue reading “Orvieto As It Was…And Is: The Grand Tour”
Christmas Memories
It’s Christmas Eve. After patiently waiting with our mother for the tinkling of the bells telling us the angels had left and the curtain to the living room could be drawn, we stand enchanted by the Christmas tree aglow with lights and the flickering flames of tiny candles. Our father is playing Silent Night onContinue reading “Christmas Memories”
The Watcher: Rome continued II
One morning I decided I would try to find the Tombs of the Via Latina. I walked and everyone I asked said oh, just a little further on. Soon the level of the rooftops dropped and small houses began to nudge each other, jostle rooftops, forming a village of dirt streets and open running waterContinue reading “The Watcher: Rome continued II”
Forthcoming: Orvieto As It Was…And Is
Years ago, when I was living in a village 15 minutes from Orvieto, that inimitable city on a cliff in Umbria, some friends of mine said: “Why don’t you write about Orvieto? You’ve been here so long and could do a sort of Grand Tour, a guide to the city, and how it has changedContinue reading “Forthcoming: Orvieto As It Was…And Is”
The Watcher: Rome
Rome, December 1955 Florence is a Renaissance city, a misura d’uomo, of human dimension. But Italy is more than Florence and that is what I wanted to discover now. Easier said than done. Rome was so much larger than I thought – so very large, even compared to New York. Strange, the smaller a city,Continue reading “The Watcher: Rome”
Teah at Blue Bar
Morning walk. Ten o’clock. She, meaning Teah the dog, jumps down from the bed and stands hopefully in the doorway. “Time for my second walk, for that cappuccino, so I can see what’s going on in the street. Besides which I like Anthony and the others who come sit outside the Blue Bar. I mightContinue reading “Teah at Blue Bar”
The Watcher: Orvieto
The next day I took the hint, or advice if you prefer. I walked up past Santa Maria Novella to the station and boarded a train for Orvieto. At least, I thought, I’ll be warm for a couple of hours. It was still an autumn landscape, with the vineyards and gentler landscape of Tuscany givingContinue reading “The Watcher: Orvieto”
Masks
Red, white and blue. Or maybe red, green and white. Or any combination you like. In whatever country you like. Here in Orvieto, Italy, masks are mandatory. If you forget to equip yourself when leaving the house, you suddenly realize you’ve gone out half-dressed, without your trousers. So you stop and buy another one orContinue reading “Masks”
The Watcher: Florence continued III
I watched. I wondered if I could call them friends. Acquaintances was, perhaps, a better word. Some did though become real friends. Like il Dottore. I had been going through some papers to find an address – I must say I hate to throw papers of whatever kind away, including grocery lists – when aContinue reading “The Watcher: Florence continued III”
What’s in a Name
Give me a name and let me tell you what it stands for. A chair is simply a chair. A daffodil just that. But say Wordsworth and it’s daffodils and lake and wind. Say Shakespeare and it’s to be or not to be and the shoemaker’s sole. Robert Burns is a wee timorous mouse RobertContinue reading “What’s in a Name”
The Watcher: Florence continued II
The days passed punctuated by moments of sun and of fog. Yet I was not as alone in Italy as I had been in Germany, despite relatives. Wherever I looked, there were long-standing friends, somehow soul mates, the pink and yellow toy houses in the hills, the rows of dark cypresses, exclamation points indicating aContinue reading “The Watcher: Florence continued II”
Boat On The Arno
A lonely boat floats on the reflections in the slow-flowing silveryArno. Every morning the man lowers his long-handled shovel into thewater, a proboscis feeding on the sand, then to be disgorged on thebottom of the boat. Behind him, many of the buildings, facades lost tothe all-too-recent war, reveal their innermost secrets. Upstream alatticework cast-iron arch, replacingContinue reading “Boat On The Arno”
The Cat
Six a.m. Thump on the bed. Over to the window sill. The cat sits herself down and looks outside. Immobile, she stares out the window. I raise my head and look out too but all is calm. The leaves hang motionless, suspended, waiting for a breeze. Almost imperceptibly dawn merges into day. The cat Continue reading “The Cat”
The Watcher: Florence
A quiet car until Bologna. My fellow travelers were an interesting group, to be observed as they observed me. All men and all Italians, except for a tall thin American. An older mustachioed man in an air force uniform, two fat, short typical businessmen, a young priest, slender like a reed, a small tired-looking man.Continue reading “The Watcher: Florence”
Erika Bizzarri 