The things that we love tell us what we are.

Happy December everybody!

And the persimmon tree.

The confetti of the season!

Persimmon tree! I remember the first time I saw a persimmon tree in the autumn. It was in a garden behind Giorgio Vasari’s home in Arezzo.

I thought then that the tree looked like nature’s natural Christmas tree: shorn of its leaves but with large round bright orange balls!

This beautiful specimen is in a garden not far from my home in Florence.

The Arno is enigmatic on these overcast days.

This is the sky, reflected in the river:

Look at these large birds! What kind are they, do you know?

I love these berries. No idea what they are.

Love this graffiti:

I can relate to this graffiti. It says Pazze, isteriche which means crazy and hysterical.

An old friend shows us how to fly his drone. You have to watch very carefully for a black speck in the upper left sky towards the end. If it weren’t for the view of the duomo, I wouldn’t have saved this precious moment. I’m glad I did!

A good morning starts like this for me:

Then later in the day, about 6 pm, walking from the city center to my home in the east side, I pass the magnificent Basilica of Santa Croce. At the moment, its piazza is filled with a Christmas market that is heavy on food stalls, and it is well attended. Christmas decorations are all over the city but they won’t be lit up until 7 December

Walking home I saw this cool dude with his fabulous hairstyle. I tried to surreptitiously film him to show to my friend Rudy!

Walking down a favorite street near Santa Croce, I passed this outdoor display of seasonal foliage. Che bello in the evening lighting.

Even the Christmas red color of the tulips felt seasonal!

Nothing beats the red berries in winter though!

I often walk by this artist’s little shop and occasionally stop in. I like seeing her at work.

Neither here nor there, I admire the font on this street number.

Egypt is in the house!

If you are in Florence and of a mind to study Gregorian Chant, you can actually take a class in it. Take that, rest of the world!

And, even if you don’t want to chant yourself, you can hear it in a concert.

I saw this pealing poster attached to a wall near the duomo. Whatever message it hoped to deliver has been lost.

And on another day, in the afternoon, I was taken by this tabernacle.

Arrivederci! Alla prossima!

But I used to be!