I merely open my eyes.

My first week in Sardinia. The warmest day so far. Feels like 70. A bright sun. A light breeze. I’m seated on a low, brick wall. In Piazza Roma. My only regret. The language barrier. I don’t yet speak Italian. Discourages me from striking up conversations with strangers. Instead, I glean what I can by observing the environs and the people. Mostly old folks. Walking slowly. Why be in a hurry? People seated on ledges outside Teatro Centrale and in the open-air amphitheater across the road. Rows of stately pini trees towering over a cobblestone walkway. Tall as 4-story buildings. Forming a canopy and an eternal shade. They remain full, bushy and green, year-round. The bell tower, tallest structure on the piazza, hovers next to the church proper. I wait in hopeful anticipation of the ringing of the bells. And I want some day soon to climb the stairs all the way to the top. The tower clock tells me it’s 10:41 a.m. And now I notice scattered clouds forming on the horizon. I have a feeling that the sunshine will soon be hidden. I shift my view to sturdy metal benches beneath the pini trees. And I see chatting men. Only men. Now students have come into the picture. They are kicking a yellow soccer ball. Practicing powerful kicks more than finesse kicks. My gaze shifts to twin white 10-story buildings. The newest ones on the scene. And I’m reminded that Carbonia was designed as a new ‘garden city’ in 1937 by the Mussolini government. Mainly for 12,000 coal miners. All this started from an architectural dream. The mines have been shut down for a long time. The local economy is depressed. A sad state of affairs. But still, I sense that people are contented and happy in this corner of the world. Two men are coming toward me. Talking with their hands. In grand Italian style. Gestures similar to those of an orchestra director. The hands control the sounding and pacing of words. Rarely do I see anyone walking briskly. Life here seems to be in delightful slow motion. Now it is 11 in the morning. On Tuesday. D.H. Lawrence visited Sardinia in the 1920s. And he wrote about it. In ‘Sea and Sardinia.’ But he didn’t see what I am seeing. There was no Carbonia then. I am seeing modern Italy. But stll very much Italy. Different. Interesting. Captivating. Enchanting. Paradise. I’ll take Italy any way I can get it. And savor it. Happily. Without even having to talk to a stranger strolling on the piazza. I don’t have to. I merely open my eyes. –Jim Broede