Una Scena in Primavera
Against my glassy eyes is the reflection of a grand capitol, far too vast to be encompassed in the eyes of an individual. The sky, a jade ocean speckled with dots of white paint, served to frame each rooftop that reached beyond the densely forested mountains to touch it. I allowed the spring breeze to flow through my feathers as I circled. Oh, how I adored this city when I once walked it’s streets as a man. Even from afar, the amethyst statue of a woman clothed in a silken robe was immediately recognized. L’amante - the lover - was the name bestowed on her by the people. To us, she symbolized the beauty of not only mankind, but of life.
My wings tilted downward, bringing me down to the level of the Eastern Arch, a feat of architecture achieved far before the lives of those who walked the streets, but just beyond my own. And how proud of it I am! Every centimeter had been sculpted with care, every twist of the white
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Beside the arch are two pots wrapped near the top in a course beige rope, out of which sprout an arrangement of Oleanders and Jasmine made to illustrate a storm with it’s dirt eye and endless colourful twists. I swooped downward past the flowers and through the arch, my left wing gently tapping the marble on the side before I flew upward into the sky. I was reminded of my love for the springtime in Italy when I saw the countryside exploding with vibrant flowers. Without warning, I was surrounding in a white wisp of moisture before my sharp beak shot through it, plunging me into the jade ocean once more. Looking down over the city surrounded by winding stream, I could not help but feel affection for it and it’s people.
This city is and has always been a place of brotherly kindness, it’s citizens prizing the depth and character of their neighbors. The intricately sculpted white city itself even appeared