d uring our stay in siena last year, we lived in the city center, and very close to the piazza del campo. unlike the hustle and bustle of san francisco and new york, free of trolleys, street cars and honking cabbies – del campo echoes with song, chatter, and people enjoying the public space until the wee hours of the morning. we were just far enough away, that the sounds of del camppo were dulled to an ambient roar.
our current flat is a long walk from the city center, and on the backside of a woodsey hill where a few other homes are nestled. without much traffic, be it by car, scooter or foot, it’s quiet here. our nights are silent and serene, with an occasional hoot from our neighborhood owl, as if to say – “it’s okay, i’m keeping a lookout.”
as dawn breaks, the silence of night is broken, and the birds begin to sing.
i don’t know much about birds, other than when it’s dead silent and they start chirping, it will wake you up. during our first week here, i found myself awake at 4:30 or 5 in the morning. refusing to stick things in my ears, i would lay there – either until i fell back asleep, or until my thoughts about the day carried me out of bed. usually, the latter.
so good morning, siena; buon giorno, world. i’ve got some coffee to brew and a bird to draw.