By coincidence, we spent All Saint's Day exactly where we were supposed to: the cemetery. Our timing was by chance; we were taking advantage of a day off to visit Milan's Cimetario Monumentale but most other visitors seemed to have come be pay their respects.
It was fairly crowded. There were husband's balancing large potted plants and cell phones, while wives gave directions and guided them along the paths. Grown sons scrubbed-down statues while their children watched and their elderly mothers gave never-ending streams of suggestions. And most all graves had fresh flowers or candles burning nearby.
The cemetery itself is a sprawling place with thousands of graves ornamented in a full spectrum of artistic styles. And fall has finally come in Milan so the leaves had turned, giving large swathes of the cemetery a blanket of yellow and orange. It's a beautiful place to wander, exploring the art and memories kept there.
But it doesn't take long to fixate on the inevitable... the nagging idea that everything, and everyone, comes to the same end. It's when you stop seeing the beauty of the place, and can only think of your eventual arrival, that it's best to speed away on your bicycle and rejoin the hum and buzz of the city. Hoping that on your way, the unruly Milano traffic doesn't send you right back from where you came.
No comments:
Post a Comment