also failed the second landing attempt. In the middle of a dark rain cloud, the aircraft began suddenly and forcefully to move back to the top. The pilot reported apologetically and confirmed that was no danger, they would have somehow land on solid ground, the storm cloud over Florence, but was instantly so impenetrable, so that he would fly to Pisa and its passengers now get there safely to the ground.
In Pisa
beamed the sun and it took a while until Anna is oriented had. Waiting for the bus seemed to be plenty of time to take advantage, so they sought the station and went by train on the way to Florence. With four hours late, she reached the city on the Arno and walked with her suitcase through the city. The first cup of coffee she had slowly melt on the tongue. She had arrived. Your stately apartment was right on the Duomo and the Baptistery in Via Roma. Maria was already waiting.
Now she was there. Once again. In the old city. The past is ever-present and projected into the present. Anna looked out the window, each view offered her a different perspective on the magnificent Building. For a long time the cars had been banned from the center and then the place was still with her. Now and again he was thwarted by a taxi or a small van, she heard the voices of the people up in the 4th Stock no. Sun and clouds alternated with each other. The rocks were silent, and reflected in their shiny wet the events of the vertical.
with Maria, a proud Florentine, she drank the second Italian espresso, before the two set off. But where they really wanted to go? The air was fresh after the rain, and surprisingly warm. The evening darkness lay gently on the town, the shopkeepers lit their lights. The many small Windows shone bright and inviting, street music was heard on every corner. Here, the night belongs to the day. The streets remain populated and life goes on.
The stone town is home. It is quiet and dignified as presents itself as a memorial to those who look. The facade of the church of San Lorenzo is unfinished for five hundred years - and they probably will. But, the town where their attention? What speaks an unfinished facade? The cathedral, seen from above looks like a big ship, is still and sublime. The Dante's House, the Convent of San Marco, the Palazzo Medici, Palazzo Vecchio and many more buildings. Everyone is there and wait for it.
Life was short - at that time. Lorenzo was forty-three, Poliziano forty, Pico only thirty-one. Why they died within a short time? All of this is Anna by her head, she feels involved. And she remembers that only Marsilio Ficino, the other survived, he was just sixty-six years old. The life span was five hundred years, about half of our life expectancy today. And yet we have just then expect a long life, is focused on the future. Houses and palaces were built for generations. For centuries. No, at that time was the time not so short-lived, as today, where everyone, if at all, only his own life its sights.
The buildings were still habitable. It is known who lived where, what time has taken place in which place. Anna immigrated with sleepwalking through the narrow streets and the magnificent places. She is here at home, yet she feels lonely as otherwise rare in life. Tourists from all over the world all with their cameras flashing past her, is all reminiscent of the glorious and eventful history. It boasts of the old masters: Michelangelo, Leonardo, Raphael, and many, many more. But they are all dead
At that time the buildings were revived. People came and went, they lived, fought, hoped and shook it. Dramas were playing away, even murders took place. Two years ago they dug Pico and Poliziano from human remains to examine whether the bones of something about her cause of death. The story continues, then, even after five hundred years. Today, most buildings deserted. They stand and stand and wait and wait - and may be visited only. Supervisors and carabinieri appear in the Renaissance city leave secure positions.
Anna roams the city with a view to the rear. At that time. The relationship between town and country seems to be good. No tree and no animal can be seen far and wide in the stone city - which is already so well at that time also been be. In the indoor market but, as the splendor of nature, fruits and vegetables in any form, meat, fish and cheese is spread out before her. Everything has to have what can be imagined.
Humanism has taken root at that time. Marsilio Ficino translated Plato - as the first. When he was thirty-three, he had finished this task. The texts have been waiting almost two thousand years later. A long time. Anna tries to look ahead, beyond the dead in their ancient graves. What comes from the future to them? In Florence? And again, remember what the city, which they called for? Where are they going?
The stones bear the steps of the people. Up they will be worn, it will take a long time. The water still flows, the Arno - and he also will continue to flow. Anna has taken the feeling to be back in the past. It was a busy time then. Maria, her friend and Florentine-born white, with almost nothing. You can take with amazement in the church of Santa Maria Novella and listens spellbound, as Anna explains who is kind of a figure that has since painted on the wall. If there are other one thousand five hundred years until another one gets up in Florence, to translate what the ancients had to say and thus points to the future?
Anna is (to) come early. She takes the silence from the city and it still carries in itself. The old friends from back then are not forgotten. They live as long on the inside of the heart until it is again allowed to return to the outside, to open the stones and start talking to those who are willing to listen.
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