Momentary Blidness: Piazza Navona

The clink of selfie sticks and the squelch of plastic pigs flopping onto the pavement invade the serene trickle of the Four Rivers Fountain.  Lilting Italian, coupled with sprinklings of Mandarin, English and French, cumulate together in the square.  Americans pass by with thick, brash accents while the lyrical flows of Italian bring a slight smile to my face.   Wafts of fresh pesto or Bolognese pasta from surrounding restaurants entice me from my seat but the cool splash of the fountain water is too soothing on my warm shoulders.  It feels good to sit.  In the distance, I hear the clang of an ambulance racing down the too narrow streets and the honk of Vespas.  I’m grateful I don’t have to dodge those metallic death traps for even a few minutes.  The soft brush of trash against the cobblestones is a soothing 21st-century juxtaposition to the commotion lying just beyond the square.  Passing by my perch on the Four Rivers Fountain, the distinctive clomp of tennis shoes and the click of heels (a task I will always admire) on cobblestones further invades my serene post.  Yet I can’t help but smile when I hear the cries of children, mostly yelling in Italian, scamper past me, the swish of their tennis shoes on just-rained pavement streaking in a footrace of youth.  Roma, a city of savory pasta sauce and crystalizing gelato, a city where the language matches the beauty of church bells, a city where the scent of fresh jasmine brings me back to my mother’s garden, has fully captured my heart.