Rome is all sky and pine, with clouds that give the city height and trees that look like people from an ancient tribe frozen against the landscape. I know the flat skies of Beijing and Delhi – lids of grey and white with little definition that close tight onto the city. Here the clouds rise from the ground – ethereal sky scrapers in a city that doesn’t have actual ones. George used the word “depth” in our new days in Rome when he first noticed and described the clouds. My last post has goods pictures of this depth.
It’s the trees, though, that I want to show you in this post. I particularly love the pines – so much so that one afternoon I googled “Roman pines” and discovered this little gem: Respighi’s symphonic poem, The Pines of Rome. You can listen to it and read a description in the YouTube link. Notice the third movement – it is set at night on the Janiculum. This is the hill that rises from the back patio of our apartment in Trestevere. You can hear a nightingale in the nocturne, singing from a pine on a night lit by a full moon.
All four movements are lovely – playful, sad, longing and celebratory.
And the trees in Rome seem all that, still, decades after Respighi’s composition.
Here are the Janiculum pines from our garden:
This tree greets me every morning from my kitchen window:
The pines on our street:
And as always, a few additional photos to fill-in-the-blanks of our days in Rome: