Ago

It was almost ten years ago that I lived in a place that had this as the view from the window. I remember sitting by the window sill with my tripod, excited to take the perfect shot.

I remember running through the streets of Siena wearing my over-sized, hand-me-down clothing as the sun set, looking down each unique, cobbled street for the perfect picture, cars and mopeds streaming by.

I remember my friend Benedetta and all the drama of her life, the visits to the Irish pub on Saturdays, the delicious tomatoes, the fizzy water. The photogenic pigeons that lined the ancient sculptures.

It was great to be a kid in a land far away, a land with visible history. So many Americans never get to do that; I really wish they could.