Hints of Spring

Spring is still officially a week away, but here in Italy it feels as though spring began last week on March 8th. That day, the Festa delle Donne (International Women’s Day) recognizes the role of women in society, women’s rights, and also the violence that is still all too common against women. It is traditional here to give flowers, simple yellow mimosas, to mark the day. For me, March 8th is always the unofficial start of spring. I see the yellow mimosas being sold in the piazza and I know that spring is just around the corner.

Bunches of mimosa at the flower market in March 8th

There are other hints of spring to be found. The days are getting longer, the skies more blue, and the temperatures are that wonderful spring “in between” of not cold, not hot, but just perfect.

Wildflowers along Lucca’s wall

The photinia bushes outside my bedroom window have sprouted new growth - a pretty red in contrast to their usual green. Bulbs are beginning to send up shoots. The grape hyacinths have already bloomed in pots along the streets and in gardens.

Grape hyacinths, always a favorite early spring blossom

My friend Michael has one of the rare gardens inside the walls. He has been busy with spring garden clean-up and now it is paying off with early spring growth - soft green ground cover, the first daffodils, tulip shoots (no flowers yet), pretty little hyacinths, delicate violets, and stalks of yellow mimosa.

Here in Tuscany our cafes are still closed to all seating, but the mild weather means we can meet outside for a chiacchiera (chat) or to share a caffè d'asporto (coffee to go). Stepping into an open piazza, people stop and turn their faces toward the sun letting the warmth embrace them. Hints of spring can be found all around.

Even store windows are hinting at spring with colorful displays of merchandise in Easter egg colors.

Spring colors in the window of the Bialetti store

Last year at this time spring seemed to pass me by as I watched it unfold from my window during Italy’s quarantine. Even a walk to see the magnolias in bloom was forbidden. I felt guilty the one time I strayed just a little beyond the 200 meters from home limit to catch a glimpse of wisteria in bloom. This year feels different - the hints of spring are a tonic, not a tease. How fortunate I feel to be able to be out and about watching spring arrive.

COVID-19 in Italy : One Year Later

By mid-February 2020 Venice’s Carnevale celebration had been halted and the city emptied almost overnight.

It was during this week one year ago that the Italian Government announced a nation-wide quarantine in an effort to contain COVID-19 in Italy. The first known case had been identified at the end of January and by mid-February it was clear that the virus was spreading in northern Italy. There were hints that a lockdown was coming. In February, one of Italy’s biggest annual events, the Venetian Carnevale, was cancelled just after its opening weekend. That provoked a good deal of outrage as many people felt it was an over reaction to a limited problem (knowledge of COVID’s impact was not well understood at that point). Soon, local travel restrictions were imposed, though not always effectively implemented. People from the first affected communities fled and took the virus with them. For the rest of 2020 all major festivals, and most smaller community festivals, were cancelled as the need to limit large gatherings became much more clear.

In early March of 2020, bars, cafes, and restaurants began to distance tables. I remember well my “last coffee” before lockdown. I sat with two friends at a local bar. We spread out across two tables, empty seats and space between us, wondering what would come next. I remember someone saying that we should all make hair appointments soon in case the salons closed (they did, the very next day).

Hospitals soon began to fill with gravely ill patients. Shortages of personnel and equipment became critical issues. And people began to die, especially the elderly. Some people still did not take COVID seriously (both here in Italy and across the world) while other’s became paralyzed with fear. Most of us existed in a middle space - concerned, taking precautions, reordering priorities and routines, and slowly adjusting to what would become a long period of restrictions. We learned to carry paperwork with us when we left the house, to not go more than 200 meters from home without a valid reason, to wear masks, and to spend most of our time at home. We kept busy. Most importantly, we searched for new forms of connection - zoom and google chats, on-line apperitivos, daily “check-ins” to be sure friends were ok and coordinated “accidental” meetings while in line for groceries or at the trash bins. We kept in touch with our families and watched grandkids grow via FaceTime. I can not imagine what the last year would have been like without this ability to connect.

Andra` tutto bene - a sign of hope during the lockdown.

A great boost throughout the last year has been the Italian sense of hope and of community spirit - we would get through this together. Italians sang on balconies, displayed the national flag, and hung signs declaring all would be ok. They swept us up in their optimism. As hard as this has been, I will be forever thankful for the spirit of my Italian friends and neighbors and for those strangers across Italy making music on balconies.

I think perhaps it was a blessing to not have known then that one year later we would still be in such a struggle with this (damn) virus. Still, life is certainly much easier, less restricted than one year ago. Shops are open, Lucca’s famous wall is once again a place where we can walk, and we can go anywhere in our community without paperwork. The Italians have embraced (or at least adapted to) the concept of take out meals, and we all feel it is our civic duty to order meals to go often, a definite plus when we can’t dine out. A real bonus is that we can have people to our homes, though the rules say only 2 at a time. Just having a friend over for an occasional coffee or a meal becomes a highlight social occasion. Mask wearing has become automatic and not such a big deal for most of us (a bonus in cold winter weather, though not so great on these warm spring days). This is the new normal.

Thankfully it is once again possible to walk along Lucca’s walls. It’s a joy to be able to walk with a friend (though group gatherings and picnics are not yet permitted). Don’t forget your mask!

The latest color coded map showing Italy’s restrictions. Only one area, Sardegna, is white meaning that they have essentially no restrictions. Red zones are the most restricted. Tuscany remains in the Orange zone, though rumor has it we may change to red next week.

There have even been a few periods when restrictions have been lifted to allow the opening of restaurants and museums as well as travel outside of one’s home community (most recently in late October/November and again for 5 weeks in January/February). These periods of respite have provided glimpses of normalcy and have been the best therapy! However, the rules are ever changing based on the most current statistics related to COVID cases, variants, transmission, and hospitalizations so what is allowed one week can be forbidden the next. We are learning to take this week by week, some of us more gracefully than others. I must admit that I am among the group that finds the constant changes, and the weekly “statistic watch” more than a little anxiety provoking.

At the end of this year there is hope but there is also grief for what has been lost, both the big and the everyday small things. Mostly, I think people are tired. At the end of a year there are fewer flags flying, not so many optimistic banners on display, and it has been a long time since I’ve seen a video of balcony singing. Many festivals are cancelled for a second year. Museums are currently closed again in Tuscany. The economy here has been devastated and economic help has been slow to arrive. Families remain separated, lives disrupted. Some political discord was inevitable. In all of these ways, Italy is not so different than most other places in the world.

But vaccines are coming and with them the hope that things will improve, infection numbers fall, tourists return, and the economy begin to recover. In the meantime, spring is almost here. The skies are blue and the temperatures mild. Italy is as beautiful as ever, a walk across Lucca still takes my breath away. Music streams from the windows of the music school near my home. The magnolias are in bloom and the wisteria will soon follow. Before long the fields will be dotted with red poppies. The ancient walls still offer a giant hug, encircling this historic city and making me feel safer for being tucked within them. I hope that, wherever you are, you have comforts that make you feel safe and connected. And that you are still dreaming of the day when it is possible to return to Italy.

Magnolias in bloom along Corso Garibaldi, Lucca. March 2021.

A Winter Walk Along Lucca's Walls

The Renaissance era walls that surround the historic center of Lucca are beautiful in every season. It is pure joy to watch the evolution of the trees that line the walls as spring’s tender green leaves turn to summer’s shady trees and fall’s glorious colors. In winter, the trees are bare and yet they have their own stark beauty. And because winters are often stormy, the skies create an ever changing scene during a walk along the walls.

A dramatic late December sky

Winter weather does not keep the Lucchese from a daily passegiata (walk) along the walls. And while you’d never see a true Italian out in even mildly chilly weather without a scarf (fear of “mal di gola”, a sore throat caused by the cold is a deeply held belief here), adults and children alike don scarves and warm coats and head to the wall for some wintertime recreation.

Winter playtime on the walls

A walk along the walls presents a different vista around each curve - bell towers, statues, mountains capped in snow, city views visible though bare tree limbs, long rows of trees, and the beautiful shape of the wall itself.

Winter rain has kept the grassy areas along the wall very green

This winter delivered mild temperatures and lots of rain. That means that, although it’s winter, there is a lot of color to be found despite the bare trees. Tree trunks are covered in soft green moss, the grassy areas just outside the walls have stayed green all winter, and the tall stone pines (also called umbrella pines for their unique shape) are evergreen. Color also appeared in the last part of February in the form of small crocuses growing along the top of the walls.

Late winter brings the earliest of blooms

More winter color comes at sunset. When the temperatures are mild an evening walk on the walls reveals an eye-pleasing evolution of shadow and color. I’m not sure there is a more delightful time for a passeggiata than a winter evening.

Soon, spring will overtake winter as trees wake up and flowers start to bloom. I’m looking forward to magnolias and wisteria and poppies but today I’m going to enjoy the last bit of winter.

The Many Meanings of "Orange" in Italy

It’s funny how the meaning of a word can change depending on language and context.

In English, the word orange can mean either the color or the fruit. In Italian it is a little more complicated. The fruit is arancia, the orange tree is arancio, and the color is arancione.

Winter is the season for arance (oranges, plural) in this part of northern Italy. They grow bright and juicy on big trees or on smaller trees in large terra-cotta pots.. There is even one growing in a small piazza in Lucca, appropriately named the Piazza dell’Arancio (top photo).

This large orange tree grows a few steps from my house. In the background is the Torre Guinigi (Guinigi Tower).

More interesting, and with deeper meaning, is what the word arancione has come to mean in terms of risk throughout Italy. Again, it has more than one meaning, both of which carry a warning.

Stormy weather ahead !

An “allerta meteo codice arancione” (code orange weather alert) is used when storms threaten with dangerous conditions (heavy rain, wind, hail, thunderstorms, floods, etc). We’ve seen a lot of that this winter. The area where I live has a system that automatically sends a text warning when orange weather conditions are predicted. There are also a less severe yellow (giallo) warnings and more severe red (rosso) alerts for weather. It definitely gets my attention when my phone beeps with one of these messages.

The newest meaning of arancione, and the one that gets the most reaction from me, relates to COVID restrictions.

The colors are the same as for weather - giallo (yellow, least restrictive), arancione (more restrictive including no indoor seating in bars and restaurants, closure of museums, and no travel outside of one’s home city), and rosso (red, most restrictive, stay home except for essential activities).

After about 5 weeks in the yellow zone, Tuscany was placed back into the orange zone on February 14th. The change was due to an increase in COVID cases and the threat associated with several COVID variants which have now arrived in Tuscany. The word arancione is definitely a trigger for me in this context, a less than happy color. But still preferable to the color red!

On a much happier orange note, I was delighted to receive a gift of some preserved orange slices just after the holidays. They went a long way towards restoring my appreciation for the word orange.

Dried oranges make a beautiful display at Gino Bistro in Lucca

In a clear gift bag, tied with a ribbon, were glistening rounds of blood oranges, glazed with sugar and slightly dried. Beautiful to look at, but I had no idea how to use them. The friend who gave them to me suggested they would be wonderful in a cup of tea. She was right and that has become a cold weather evening ritual for me. She also suggested using them in a hot toddy. A hot toddy! What a perfect way to warm up on a stormy winter evening. It is said that hot toddies might even have medicinal properties - perhaps one will scare away any lingering viral particles.

The search was on for a recipe and there were endless varieties. A true toddy starts with alcohol - bourbon, Irish whisky, rum or brandy. The common theme seems to be a dark colored liquor as opposed to clear ones like vodka or gin. Next comes a sweetener. Most often that is honey but some recipes use white or brown sugar, simple syrup, or (my personal favorite) maple syrup. Lemon is the next typical ingredient but here is where I substituted those beautiful rounds of preserved orange. I’ve tried it both ways and found that I like the orange slices even better than a fresh lemon slice. To my mind, using Italian preserved blood orange slices makes this it an Italian hot toddy, even if I could not find a translation for the word toddy in any of my Italian dictionaries.

To the above ingredients some boiling water or black tea is added - that’s what puts the hot in hot toddy. Those are the essential ingredients but there are many extra “add-ins” - cinnamon sticks, cloves, star anise, ginger, even chile. The variations are endless.

I was happy with the following very easy recipe: In a small mug (a 6 ounce coffee mug works perfectly) combine: 2 tablespoons of dark rum and 1 tablespoon of maple syrup. Add 1 slice of dried, sugar glazed orange and muddle it a bit to release the flavor. Next, fill the mug with boiling water or hot black tea and add 1 cinnamon stick. Using water makes the rum flavor more prominent, using tea mellows the taste of the rum. I like it both ways. Simple, tasty, and guaranteed to warm you up on a cold evening, especially if you are in the orange COVID zone with an orange alert storm howling outside.

Orange spiced hot toddy - che buono !

Outdoor Sculpture in Florence

The city of Florence is a gift, one I can receive time after time and find just as thrilling as I did on my first visit more than 20 years ago. There is so much to see - cathedrals, small churches, bridges, museums, architecture, hills, and beautiful Tuscan skies. Usually all of these things are enjoyed while simultaneously dealing with (and grumbling about) large groups of tourists. However, this past year has been a bit different (in so many ways) and with fewer people about, there is little competition for close-up views of Florence’s wonderful art and architecture. Even better if, like me, sculpture is one of your favorite art forms. On my last visit I was happy to just wander, never even entering a museum. Instead, I spent my time immersed in the beauty of the many outdoor sculptures and statues in Florence.
It’s impossible to see all of Florence’s sculptural wonders in one visit, but described below is a walk that I love which includes some of my Florentine favorites. And although right now travel is impossible for many of us - I can’t even go to Florence from my home an hour away in Lucca due to our most recent COVID restrictions - I hope this walk is a path we might all enjoy on a future trip to this special city.

The walk begins north of the Duomo in Piazza SS Annunziata (named for the church at the north end). When in Florence I always try to make time for this church. While the rest of my walk across Florence is outdoors, inside this church is one of the loveliest tomb monuments I’ve ever seen. How graceful, and sad, is this woman who keeps eternal watch over the tomb of a loved one? A stop here is a great way to begin a sculpture walk.

A tomb monument inside the church of SS Annunziata, Florence

In the piazza in front of the church are two fountains featuring sculptures of mythical creatures (by the artist Pietro Tacca) as well as a massive bronze statue of Ferdinand I on horseback (by Giambologna). If you look closely, you’ll also see a series of round della Robbia pieces above the arches of the Ospedale degli Innocenti (you can see one above and to the right of the fountain in the photo below).

Next stop - the Duomo, where the sculptures include both large statues and countless small, detailed sculptures adorning the facade and doorways.

On my last visit I did not approach them with an eye toward the historical significance of each piece - who is that saint? that pope? that angel? (for that it is better to visit the Duomo museum) but rather just with an appreciation for the craftsmanship and beauty of the work.

The intricacy of the carvings, the stunning colors, the gracefulness of the faces, they way they are placed on the colorful facade - what a display of artistry.

A much smaller, but equally beautiful sculpture. Many of these small marble figures surround the doorways and windows of the cathedral.

After spending time at the Duomo, the walk continues to the Piazza della Signoria and the Loggia dei Lanzi, full of famous statues including a scaled-down reproduction of Michelangelo’s David and the fascinating but brutal Rape of the Sabines by Giambologna.

Walking further towards the river Arno, at the far end of the piazza, is the Fountain of Neptune. Statues are wonderful, but a statue that is also part of a large fountain is fantastic (especially is you happen to visit on a warm day).

The Fountain of Neptune, Florence

Wandering past the Palazzo Vecchio and along the Uffizi courtyard are a series of statues of famous artists, scientists, and literary giants. From left to right below: Cellini, DaVinci, and Donatello.

Walking across the Ponte Vecchio, there is a bust of Cellini. He was a master goldsmith, as well as an artist and writer. He may have been a bit of a troublemaker, but he’s a home town boy and it is fitting to honor him on the bridge where today so much of the Florentine gold is sold.

The inscription reads: Benvenuto Cellini Maestro Gli Orafi di Firenze

Across the Ponte Vecchio, the walk comes to an end. For me, the perfect ending to a wander through Florence’s outdoor sculptures is a lunch “oltrarno” at the restaurant 4 Leone. After all, fabulous food is another Italian art form!