FLORENCE | PEACE | CLOUDS | WATERCOLOR
Perfect in Scents and Sense
Gratitude welling up
jasmine fills the nose
“questa pace qui,” he says
gratitude abounds
A Blending of the Senses
This morning was filled with the Summer scent of jasmine draped over walls like a dream and the sounds of Chopin lilting from the hands of a pianist practicing inside a church as we look over Florence from the Benedictine Abbey of San Miniato al Monte, high above the city. The sky has only a couple of clouds, the temperature is perfect, and the city is gathered in its fullness far below us. It is a blending of the senses. “Questa pace qui,” a man says to his friend, standing nearby—This place is so peaceful here.
School children sit on the steps of the church, their teacher singing the song of this place in lyrical Italian. A large, stylishly casual family chats and laughs, cooing over babies in front of the church, here for a wedding, perhaps. They look stunning! I wonder if the pianist was practicing for them. The family bulldog isn’t having any of it. He seems bored by the whole thing! A monk in white habit and cloak (seasonally comfortable, I think) comes out to greet the family, then everyone goes inside smiling, leaving the artists to their work.
The city seems serene below in the noonday sun. She meditates under the Chianti mountains opposite us, chanting her mantra, “pax… pax… pax….” There is a haze today that blues the more distant mountains, giving depth. Having wandered around those streets yesterday, we know that there is a press of people on every street. You wouldn’t guess that from here, though. One could think all the happiness of the world was gathered on this porch.
Lavender and Burnt Sienna
It’s passing clouds that catch Roxanne’s eye. Wandering overhead, they shadow swaths of the city, leaving the margins dazzled and cheerful. “Grazie Dio,” she says, washing a blend of lavender and burnt sienna onto the paper that renders the effect.
There is a lot to be grateful for. The beauty of this day—a family celebrating a milestone, the troop of bicyclists who just arrived. This city, once torn by centuries of violence and war, is now in a far more peaceful place—it gives me hope—the very present hope that is found at any moment. Moments like this.
A Remembering…
So many patients tell me their fears for the world… for the conflict witnessed in every direction, for the violence as all sides who wish for the complete destruction of the other in war and politics. The young ones say it with fear in their eyes. The old ones have just given up. I feel we could turn toward something other than fear, toward a kind of remembering of something felt sometime, maybe in the past, maybe as a child long ago. I can’t quite touch what I think it is, but the sense of it is coming up for me in this place—questa pace qui.
Roxanne is done with her painting, so we wander into the church. It’s not a wedding. It’s a baptism, the christening of new life, new hope, and new possibilities. The monk is just finishing his homily in the melody of his tongue— Grazie per questa famiglia. Grazie per questa bambino. Grazie Dio. Thank you for this family. Thank you for this baby. Thank you, God.
That’s it. That’s what we feel. Thanks and gratitude all around, in every direction—for this family, for this child, for God, for this day. for this city, for this peace that wafts over us like summer jasmine, perfect in scent and sense.
Here’s a lovely story about jasmine by Medium writer Moryt Milo. I love it because she captures that delicious smell!
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The Rev. Ron Steed is an Episcopal Deacon in Southeast Connecticut and a chaplain at Lawrence & Memorial Hospital in New London, CT. He writes haiku and lyrical prose that he hopes will help others put their head and heart in the right relation.
Top writer in Art, Watercolor, Haiku, Sermons, Refresh the Soul Weekly, and Episcopal Church.
