ho provato.

Today I climbed to the top of the Duomo, and it smelled like fall. I stayed there for an hour, alone, the wind teasing my hair like static electricity and the sun glowing a dusty burnt orange. And I thought, You know, this is pretty marvelous.

I love Autumn. I love waking up one morning and just knowing it's finally here. Stepping out the door and taking a long, deep breath of that crisp air, remembering that you always forget just how good it is. I like the way you suddenly feel like you've started over, like this is a new you in a new chance. Fall comes and you feel a new commitment to life, a strong will to rededicate yourself to the things you love the most. They say Spring is the time for renewal and rebirth, but I think I am partial to the more serious recalcuations of Fall.

And then an American tourist couple joined me up there on the wall above the city, talking about how they definitely needed to blog that fantastic appled pork they ate in San Gimignano.

bye-bye Babar

bon voyage!

Bon voyage, buon viaggio and happy trails to you, A, E, and K. Pourriez vous s'il vous plaît écrire une fois? (Post/write once, if you can -- et merci). We will actually completely and very muchly miss you! We'll keep watch here on Yale's home front. Be safe. Don't do anything I wouldn't do (K and A, pretty sure you'll toss this out the window tout de suite), take lots of pictures, and have the time of your lives!
gros bisous,
M

“Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes." Henry David Thoreau

O Pioneers!

The King of the parade stole our hearts.

You decide who the Queen is...

Nellzie, looking Regal as ever behind Miss Annie.

24th Parade

Modern Pioneers.....

Models....

And a rowdy crowd..... celebrate Utah's holiday!!!

Sweet 17

Happy Birthday, Miss O!

Best wishes to this lip gloss-wearing, lyric-writing, poetry goddess of Yale Avenue. Come home soon so we can celebrate!

together we trod

Emily Dickinson wrote, "My friends are my estate." Pavement, grass, and the path of Pirate's Cover underfoot, we've trodden every inch of Yale Avenue - together. We've taken turns about the R's English-style garden, stepping stones leading the way. We have climbed into what used to be a tree house big enough for three in my parent's backyard and spent time on the hill between Steven's and Robinson's, all of these estates, grounds and paths we know by heart.

As the song of summer commences, we will all embark upon paths anew: to Wales, to Italy, to Paris. To new jobs and new endeavors, whether a passport is required or not. Paths of freedom. Paths of self-discovery. Paths on the stepping stones to True Love. Let us carry with us this feeling of together; this feeling of estate. Always with Home in mind: dirt from Pirate's Cove, grass from Stevens' front lawn, and lavender from the Rhondeau's white picket fenced garden; pieces of Home forever in our pockets. Together, but apart, we will continue. Firm and constant.

"Be slow to fall into friendship; but when thou art in, continue firm and constant."

{Socrates}

K, I couldn't resist. With Europe only so many months away...it seemed all too perfect. Pack that super glue!