I unpacked my scarf this week. I'm glad to have it now, as the almost-bitter wind grabs at my hair and tries to bully its way past my layers to reach my skin. The clouds feel so close here on the top of this hill. I could almost touch them if they weren't moving so fast. If you can escape the confined mass of buildings and go where you can actually see something, Perugia feels like it's the top of the world. I've carved out a space for myself at the end of the upper city where people appreciate the views of the valley and hills dotted with cypress and olive trees. Despite the people passing behind me while I lean over the stone wall serving as my writing table, I feel spacious and free. The words flow more freely here; I think a change of scene is always good for clearing the mind. I'm grateful to be reminded that there is something bigger than myself out here. And I am extra appreciative for my black pants that are soaking in the sun's rays. Don't take the sun for granted here, I tell myself.
I have noticed a slight sense of dread lurking behind my excitement for a new season. In theory, the idea of wearing layers of sweaters and coats, drinking endless cups of tea, and finding a cozy refuge from the wintery elements is so appealing; in fact, I'm delighted to be able to wear my new long tweed coat that I got from the Saturday market. But I have a complicated relationship with the cold, and the clouds make me sad if they linger. I like the variety of the seasons, but winter is a little too long and too romanticized for me. I know I am truly a desert spirit and always will be (despite my love for green vegetation). I have a chance at surviving winter if I can feel the sun on my face everyday.
It's not yet winter, but summer feels like a distant memory already. I finally made the unfussy soup I had been craving during this entire first chilly week. Soup is freeing to make because you can add whatever you want and it will most likely turn out well. I walked the extra steps to "big Pam" and got my chosen ingredients: pre-packaged soffritto (onion, carrot, celery, parsley), kale, potatoes, bouillon, a mix of farro and lentils, and curry powder. Curry powder is a lovely soup addition for when you don't have many other spices and want something warm.
At home, I took a break from my work to chop, sauté, simmer, and taste until my soup was perfect. The curried yellow broth was rich and meaty, and the kale, farro, and lentils tasted like the most nutritions and wholesome thing I've eaten in a long time. After a month of cooking things that weren't quite right, this was overwhelmingly comforting.
Now, I look around me to see Italians in their beloved puff jackets going about their Saturday lives. In the fading afternoon light, lovers hold each other a little closer and the pigeons huddle in their alcoves.
The sun has gone behind an endless cloud—I must move on.
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