Gelato on Tiber Island

4:53 p.m. and about 60 degrees. I am sitting on Tiber Island, Leaning back on the embankment rocks, without a single cloud that can put a damper on the sky’s persona. Lying back and looking up to watch the erratic and random flight paths of the bird’s silhouettes in the sunset; Erratic, yes of course, but elegant in their own right. Wind from my right, I can hear the gentle flow of the river clash with the untimely event of a crazy Italian driver hitting his horn. The screeching of the trains pass by every three minutes or so; a lot less often, compared to the fluttering sounds of the speeding motorbikes. (watching them are quite amusing… ) I just ate a crème and strawberry gelato down here with Allen, Eric, Page, and April. Strawberry was excellent. Crème was alright with the cone. Not much more you can ask for at a particular moment, sitting on, arguably, the most important historical island, the sun setting in front, and the river flowing from the right with the Ponte Sisto in the back ground. Always in good Company.