Writing Assignment 10

The most vivid image etched into my memory from my time in Rome is not particularly representative of all my experiences as it is already reflective upon those adventures. Its higher resolution is also probably due to its recent occurrence.

The morning of March 12th, the day after the program ended, I woke up early to help Teo and Erika get their bags down to Via Arenula and over to Trastevere where they had a pre-arranged car waiting. The sun had not yet breached the horizon and only the softest purple and slate blue broke the night's dominance of the sky. We walked over the Ponte Garibaldi and in the open could see the sickle moon just over Tiber Island. Venus hovered a little ways away. Billowing clouds bordered the horizon but only a few gossamer streaks crossed above our heads and veiled the moon.

I saw Teo and Erika off successfully and on my way back across the river looked down at the white stones of the embankment, which were stained blue in the pre-dawn glow. Looking between the graceful arches of the Ponte Sisto just to the north, the gentle eddies in the river itself, and the moon as it hung in the growing yellow light, I realized how silent everything was. Not a car or bird to break the trance of dawn. And in that utter solitude I smiled at the idea that only ten weeks ago just walking outside the Campo alone was an adventure. Now, in the subdued peace of that often accompanies goodbyes, I felt an ownership of everything I saw; I had a right to live in Rome.

I stayed in Rome another 8 days afterwards but that was my goodbye to the eternal city. It is the final image of my Rome that I have.

Final note to ruin the sappy mood with analysis: Ironically, the first time it struck me that I was in Rome was in a sunset, leaning against the railing of Mussolini's wedding cake, looking towards the Vatican and the tens of domes visible between us. Seems I have a thing for the twilight.