One of the things I love about Rome, or maybe just Italy as a whole, is it’s depth, spatially. I love how you can walk by an archway and as you pass it by, it seems for a second that you caught a glimpse of another world. Behind the archway there is an open courtyard, behind which stands another archway, then a statue, then a garden. Colorful and still, the sun grazes the archway, uninterrupted by an occasional passersby’s shadow.
I love the graffitied walls behind which trees blossom with spring’s orange flowers. The peachy buildings contrasting against an everlasting blue. Even when you look up, behind these branches the sky is all you can see, a depth reaching across millenniums. A playground for the sizzling life below, the perfumes from open kitchen windows, as well as the honking of motorbikes, buzzing around the pedestrians like bees. Seagulls that beckon in the morning as a tribute to the day.
And every once in a while you may find an oasis, a forest with it’s own noises and scents. It’s own paths, and hidden treasures, and colors.