There is a place in Florence that I call my special place. It is safe
to call it my special place for I doubt if anyone else has ever laid claim
to the place as significant. It is not connected with any site religious
or artistic and I'm sure a hundred people pass it daily without giving
it a second thought. But should they be there in late March on a sunny
or cloudy afternoon or morning or evening and see some fellow leaning
on a bridge wall along the Lungarno staring quietly across the river at
nothing in particular they will see me at my special place. It was here
that we stood for the first time and became aware that we were in Florence
and that we had no responsibility beyond our own self interest and everything
was perfect. We were young then and Florence was new and strange and exotic
and old and famous and everything a great city should be. And although
Florence has changed in our eyes because it has grown older along with
us there is still a place that reminds me of when we could simply stop
and stare and feel every place was there for us and every place could
be special. So each new time in Florence I return to that same spot and
lean my elbows on the wall and stare across the river and see my past
self staring at the same scene and I remember why I will always return
to this city.