“Stay here in Italy! In three weeks, you will experience how amazing is the spring in Rome!”
I got this text exactly one year and two weeks ago. It was sent to me by an Italian colleague just after life all but closed down due to COVID…not that I have to explain this context to anyone at the moment. Right now we’re all sitting back and blinking at the fact that we’ve commenced another lap of this living. It’s like participating in a Formula 1 race where all of the cars have only three wheels. And not all of the pilots are driving like they realize there’s an impediment to speed.
Of course, I never considered leaving Italy last year—even in the face of a global pandemic. But I will say that he was totally right. The springtime blooms are plenty good reason to stick around. I say this now with a nod to the fact that outdoor activities remain the safest kind amusement. I am grateful that we are no longer limited to a 500-meter radius from our homes, but I still don’t want to sit inside of a restaurant.
It’s not in the deep freeze of northern Europe, but in early March, Rome’s colorful parade is still packed away to the naked eye. On my morning runs through the parks, I squint up at bare branches while wearing gloves to save my skin from chapping. In the evenings, I am still more than happy to don a puffy jacket and a scarf: something that does not look like overkill because everyone else around here is doing it too. But happily, all of this dramatic winter layering does not last for long.
By March 30th—where we currently stand now—the tree tips have announced spring with plenty of pink and green points. Even better, the average temperature is noticeably rising and any opportunity to lounge in the sun feels glorious. As of this morning, the region of Lazio emerged from a lockdown (only until the Easter weekend when the restrictions return) and this afternoon I spotted a couple walking in the sunshine, each with a caffè freddo in hand. Think iced coffee but even better than what you are imagining. I wanted one too.
What really struck me last year about spring in Rome were the hyacinths in bloom. These plants that I walked by all the time—the type that seemed as boring as dangling spider plants—underwent a delightful metamorphosis. It’s like you blink and then those dropping branches suddenly show dozens of delicate blooms. I spied them yesterday morning occupying space on an otherwise boring fence. Yes, the mimosa trees which bloom before the hyacinth are also beautiful in their ephemera, but the pastel color of the hyacinth makes it seem as though Rome has its own Easter decorations.
We’re still pretty limited in what we can do here. Easter is this weekend and so the government is doing everything it can to once again restrict reunions/superspreader events. We’re all worn down from it all but it doesn’t matter. Here we all are. I’ve been reading articles that refer to the current vaccines as the “first-generation” variety…and in digesting this new vernacular I realize yet again that this is a long-haul kind of new existence.
If this was the before-COVID times, I feel like I’d have more things to write about. I’ve lost track of the number of times where people (almost 100% of them Italian) have apologized to me for coming to Italy just as the world changed. And yes indeed, it is a different and somewhat stunted way to experience Italy…but you’ll never hear me actually complaining. Nature in Italy (like everywhere in the world) offers some of the best rewards that come with living in a particular place. And so I don’t feel short-changed. I think about this now when I go outside and opt to walk—rather than taking the bus when I find too many people packed inside.
The green spaces, the flowers—even the color changing of the distant fields while I am on the highway. It’s all a reminder of both the impermanence for where we are all at as well as the nudge to appreciate things while we’ve got them in view. The world’s crappiest Formula 1 race may circle on, but I’ll do my best to remember that no one lap is exactly the same, and the turns are always in front of us demanding our attention.