Piazza Navona


The splash of the water flowing into the pool behind my shoulder fade into the noise of the piazza, a steady, all-pervasive backdrop to the flurry of activity. It is overshadowed by the noises of the waking world, a cacophony of individual voices that are identifiable for a split second before they are gone, mingling back into a senseless murmur. My back to Bernini’s masterpiece, I listen to snippets of passing conversation. A young tour guide begins, “这个泉水是说…” as she leads her group past me, footsteps reduced to a simple pattering on the hard cobblestone. Another group passes, this time the gentle rhythm of Spanish floating in and out of earshot. Voices and cultures overlap in this space, creating a polyglot’s paradise and I relish it. 
The wind picks up around the fountain, tinged with a chill from the flowing waters and touched with the faintest scent of baking bread wafting from one of the nearby open storefronts. There is so much hustle and bustle that merely standing still and feeling my weight press into the metal bars of the fountain railing that I am perched on make it seem as if time has slown to encompass only this moment. The world whirls around, too fast and too slow all at once. Fitting for the Eternal City. This feeling is broken only by the high-pitched and piercing squeals of the plastic toys that no-one wants to buy, accompanied by the sharp whistles of their keen-eyed vendors. 
A couple sits beside us. The language they speak is lost among the ambiance and the water. Their soft conversation is warm and fond, though I know not what they say to each other. That is the beauty of such a space. Within the overwhelming moment, hundreds of these moments can happen, all at once.

(May 21st, Piazza Navona)

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