We fly all (well most) of the night and arrive in Rome. The sun is coming up as we get off the plane and head to the train that will take us into central Rome. It feels good to need a sweatshirt as we walk the long outdoor hallways.
Looking out from the wide train windows we see fields dotted with giant hay rolls, the European version of a bay bale. Little villages with red tile roofs and sand colored houses flash by.
When we arrive at the central train station we are early for he fast train to Florence. Tired as we are we leave the station to stretch our legs and see the sun. After years of traveling through time zones I have found the best aid to adjusting is to get outside as soon as possible. Somehow our bodies note the position of the sun and begin to re-orient.
We walk a block from the bustling station and find a quiet park. We head through the ornate gate hoping to sit on a bench under the trees for a bit. Out of nowhere comes a man in uniform. "E' chiuso Segnora." He has the tone that we should have known that the park is closed. We back onto the street and pause a moment to take in the city around us.
Orange, yellow, and pink buildings line the street. First floor businesses topped by four stories of residences. It is the pallet that gives me pause. Colors so subtle as to blend into the background, the softest of rainbows.
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