Thursday, September 6, 2012


If we are lucky enough to have you as a long-time reader of this blog--or maybe one who just reads the older posts--you may have noted that one of the pitfalls of expat-type blogs is that as time wears on, one is no longer writing about a foreign land as much as writing about where one lives. It's a change in tone. We can't keep up the awe of "firsts". If you read our post from last September, it extolls the virtues of clouds. I very nearly did it again! We tend to enjoy the cycles that appear in life and that's good, but when do cycles become ruts? How do you tell the difference between ritual and boring habit? Italy has reinforced this love of ritual in us. Southern Italian life is built on ritual. It's beyond rich. I can't be sure, because I'm not one of them, but it seems that for most people here ritual means more than adventure, more than money, it represents life. Wow, that makes our ruts look good! Ritual means that every September we know all the Italians here on holiday will return to their homes, leaving us to enjoy the quiet, clean air and empty beaches. Ah, Settembre, indeed.


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