We join the natives in one of their favorite social rituals:

We knew the monastery was off to the left
And thought that it was naturally closed.

What we didn’t know was any piece of the story
About the Church of Saint Ponziano, the Martyr.

Part of it had to do with a medieval earthquake,
Which led to the raising of the modern church.

Below ground level, in the crypt, the first church,
Which has a much more elemental feel to both of us.

Along with a series of frescoes to marvel at.

The trek through the olive grove, in the heat of September
Two years ago, when we were just learning our way around

Wasn’t perhaps my finest hour, especially upon learning
That the Basilica of San Salvatore was chiuso (closed).

And the route through the center of town, the bright idea that
I hit upon last year before learning I couldn’t read a map,

Wasn’t much better. But this year, having solved the route
And the hours, who thought to plan on a natural disaster?

From the bottom of the stairs, trust me, the sign says it all.
The key word here, the closer you get, is of course chiusa.

Friends from Treviso pop in for a visit.
A brief look around town, late in the day.
Then a nice, casual dinner at our favorite
Neighborhood spot, laughing away the night.

Yesterday sustains?

At the top of the line for the moveable stairs,

An exhibition of art and archaeology side by side.

Sometime, long after the conversation with our friends,
I’ll have to go back and get this shot framed properly:

But there’s something to be said for how life just happens.
And something to be said for leaving the corner chopped off.

Sometimes–with the internal links, e.g.–time lapses are mine, sayeth the blogger.

Other times–with photos on a given day–cloud changes are mine, sayeth the Lord.