(Chah-Mm-Bell-Eena) Once: My Virtual Italian Notebook. Now: Everything I Love.
Also: the best little donut you've ever tasted.
Monday, April 30, 2012
I've been begging Il Nostro Inviato to plant the flower you see in the photo since we returned to Atlanta nearly four years ago.
In fact just about this time four years ago, I came to visit Atlanta to look at houses and begin figuring out my second tour of duty in the City In A Forest. And this flower -- jasmine -- was blooming and the scent was overwhelming and everywhere and it made me think of one thing and one thing only:
For me, it has a similar power to the Italian liqueur, Montenegro: one whiff of that and I'm transported back to Siena, Italy, circa 1993.
But I cannot actually recall where I would have seen this flower growing in Italy, in order to internalize its distinct perfume and forever associate it with Il Belpaese.
I mean, Siena's historic center has little vegetation, and that goes the same for Florence.
Anyway if someone can tell me if this is in fact 'il profumo d'Italia,' I would be grateful. Although, in any event I'm over the moon smelling this lovely jasmine plant, growing on -- and I hope soon taking over -- my front porch.
Il sole quando sorge, Sorge piano E poi la luce si diffonde Tutto intorno a noi Le ombre ed i fantasmi della notte Sono alberi e cespugli Ancora in fiore Sono gli occhi di una donna Ancora piena d'amore. (il mitico Lucio Battisti)
Dante's Inferno (opening verses)
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, ché la diritta via era smarrita. * Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte che nel pensier rinova la paura! * Tant' è amara che poco è più morte; ma per trattar del ben ch'i' vi trovai, dirò de l'altre cose ch'i' v'ho scorte.
CANTO I, 1-9
Beach parking lot -- Peschici (FG), Puglia
Few things make me laugh as much as the sign on this building.