My first November in Florence was filled with too many new things for me to understand the significance. Last year, my land lady explained, and I listened carefully… And here it is again.
While many might think I am considering the awful flood of 1966, I must confess, this afternoon my mind is distracted with a lighter wave.
For weeks, through very changeable October weather, it struck me from time to time that I had not seen, or heard, the starlings gather before their big migration away from Florence. It is happening now, on this mild November afternoon, about 30 minutes away from sunset, their songs fill my ears and their bodies fill the skies. It is almost time. Too small and too quick to get a clear photo, their dark bodies line rooftops, antenna and treetops.
Through the heat of the summer they could be heard sheltering in the trees around Santa Maria Novella, and occasionally in the evening of a hot day, after a thunderstorm. But now, they are gathering. Their song is different – their flights are different.
A friend mentioned recently that were supposed to be heading into. Cold, snowy winter. These little birds will do well to leave soon. If the forecast is correct, they will be happier not being here.
Starling gathering light
For now, as the sun’s rays slant under the light cloud, they are my companions, and I’m enjoying their company and farewell.