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One pine cone, one pebble

May 29, 2012

It’s our last night in Italy. Today we rode the ferry around the cinque terre. We only saw three of the terre, because I wanted to get back to the beach in front of our hotel. I spent the afternoon staring out to sea at the little lumpy islands, thinking things like, this is what they saw; this is what they heard. At night, we could see the Shelley house glowing white from our restaurant in the square.

Tomorrow, we fly to Paris. I am taking with me one pine cone from the Protestant cemetery in Rome where Shelley is buried and one pebble from the bay where he drowned.

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