I have a clear memory of the day that I took this picture. It was early October in Rome. We had just returned to this hotel where we had been the previous week. Our inn was a charming spot on a quiet small street off of Via del Corso. We had spent three nights there before heading off to the province of Avellino to visit Calitri-the birthplace of both of my grandparents- and then on to the fantasy that is Positano. We were thrilled to be returning to la bella Roma-we had six more days to wander around this ancient city and devour its history and its food.
J. had slept in and I decided to take my cappuccino and head up to the rooftop bar. Being morning, it was totally deserted and I was there alone- with my thoughts, my journal and in awe of the view from atop the hotel. In the evening there’s a makeshift bar up there serving drinks and it is the perfect spot to sip a glass of red wine and enjoy the lights of the city. In the morning, it’s quiet and it gave me the perfect opportunity to gaze out on the rooftops of the neighborhood and the umbrella pines lined up on one of Rome’s seven hills. Everywhere that I looked there was something wondrous to gaze upon and I knew that I had to try to imprint it in my mind. All too soon we would be gone from this spectacular city so full of the past and I would have to rely on this memory to sustain me until I could once again stand there, on the roof, surrounded by the past.