Tuesday, July 15, 2003

O Pioneers!

On Saturday afternoon, Antonello, Corrie, and I decided to visit Cingoli, a city in the Macerata Province of Le Marche. Perched on a hill, Cingoli's wide expanse of panorama gives it the nickname "The Balcony of Le Marche," which it promotes rather wildly as its tourist selling-point. Upon arriving in the city, we parked the car outside of the city walls to see this renowned panorama. It was a sunny, fogless day--perfect for vista viewing.

It was true--you could see everything from Cingoli's long stretch of hill. The country stretched out as patchwork before us: clearly worked into what it was, but colored like land that had been touched only by the most respectful of hands. Gentle greens and golds with folds of cities tucked within them--a land filled by years and years of life.

But it was Antonello's view of the land that meant the most that day. A native Maceratese--I saw him looking out at the land, his hand shading the sun like an explorer: a pioneer. He was searching for his own town out there, in this raw country. Finding it with him was a sort of relief. It was there: Macerata. In a wide open land you can find anything, I felt.



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