Sunday, August 3, 2014

Sounds of Silence

"We travel to learn . . . "
~ Maria Mitchell

I've noticed the sounds more than anything over the past three days. Since Mike is not here, I say very little unless I'm in a shop or walking down the street. Instead, I listen.

Just a few minutes ago, I heard tapping on the red tile roof four stories up. I looked up to see a few huge drops plop on my terrace. The rain increased in intensity—as did the tapping. Suddenly, it stopped, and all I heard were the church bells ringing to announce 6:00 PM. I hear the church bells a lot.  I think the priest, who sits outside of the side door every afternoon, rings the bells on the half hour.

A mother and her two children live above me, and I hear them  couple of times a day when they leave the apartment.  The door slams, and three sets of feet pound down the stairs. I've never seen them, but I'm guessing the children are around two and six. They' speak French, so I don't quite understand what they're saying. However, the youngest one is often not very happy to be leaving or returning because he's always protesting in a very loud way.

Speaking of French, I don't hear it much in Bologna. I was on a short ride around the city yesterday, and there were Germans and Scandinavians. It's quite odd to be walking down the street with people like me and realize that I cannot understand a lot of what they're saying.  I listen, though, to the musicality of their languages. The Germans sound like they are marching, while the French sound like they are sliding their feet. American tend to skate, and the Italians waltz. Cesar, my new friend who owns the bar a few doors down from the flat, agrees.

The other sound I really notice is near Piazza Maggiore, the main plaza in town.  Friday and yesterday, there were a lot of people around, and all of the talking and laughing  created a very loud buzz. By evening, though the crowds thinned out, and the buzz was more of a hum.  Today, even the hum was resting.

I hope this makes sense since I am once again falling asleep at the keyboard.

Buona serata.

PS The kid is on his balcony screaming.  It's time to close the door.  ;-)

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