Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Architecture in garden design

We are finishing the first week of classes. Tomorrow we take a field trip to a garden of Bolzena. (sp)
Lots of photos to post. Put some on my personal blog by mistake.

Here is info I wrote by sitting and watching people on a corner in Viterbo:


Smells are of food, gasoline smell and coffee. There are the day tourists dragging their suitcases behind them as they enter the gates of Porto Romano. A local man in his 60’s dressed in a striped shirt and jeans and non-descript black athletic shoes is intently talking on his cell phone and pacing the street. He has his cell phone in his ear, and another device in his hand while he is texting with the same hand that is holding the cell phone. Many motorcycles enter the gate with two smiling young people on it. There is a conversation between a mama and two men in the middle of the street, next to a car that is parked in a no parking zone. Most cars are parked in no parking zones. People walking in are Italian. Their clothes are modern, their shoes are pure leather and sandals look new. I hear the clash of coffee cups being stored in the coffee shop next door. People are walking around with purpose, on their way somewhere, but not in a rush. More teenagers roll in on their mopeds, wearing tank tops, shorts and sandals with a helmet on their head. A middle aged bald man walks by with his wife and a large red, long haired dog on leash. One lady is strolling into the café with her shopping bag, and greets the barista. Most cars have bird droppings on their hoods. A three wheeled truck rolls by. It is green with an old man inside who has white wiry hair and a red checked shirt. Most cars and trucks are very small, carrying one or two persons. Larger cars are rare. A VW just passes, and I recognize the silver car by its Winney the Pooh sun shades. It is the same man I saw yesterday. His family was not in the car today. Here comes the Polizia. There are two men in the vehicle. They look stiff and still as they drive by. The old man with the two devices is now typing on one device and then switching to the other one. He looks a bit frustrated. He paces back and forth in the empty parking space. American music is coming from the café door of the coffee shop. The bells chime at the church, a regular sound for the hour and a higher pitch bell for the quarter hour. The old man lights a cigarette and smokes it nerviously. He is fumbling on his pockets. He tries his phone call again, while he taps his cigarette.  He reaches his party and talks while he paces the street in front of his house.
Caio  is heard as an older lady wearing a log dress leaves the cafee and walks with her bag up the hill toward the Porta Romana gate.
Two cars drive by that look sparkling clean. Their drivers look well shaved and clothes are finely pressed. Here comes the city bus. And a smartcar with a lady driving who is smoking while she is driving. She looks at me. Her black hair is pulled back and she has a white t-shirt on. Her face has hard lines on it and she looks quite tan.
The mama lady now opens the back of her car and the two men with her peer in to the back of the car. One of them is carrying a box in his arms.
A breeze blows by and tosses the plant branches on a potted plant by the door of the café. Two boys wearing bright orange t shirts run by, chasing each other, enjoying the hills of Viterbo.
I smile, most smile back.

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