Because these old goats are tired from climbing these hills. More at 11:00.

In the Arts:
When it comes to abstruse poetry, Wallace Stevens is the mother of invention.
One of his most famous, a Cubist haiku, is “13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.”

In Real Life:
When it comes to practical necessities, Rebecca knows how to shift things a bit.
Take the bidet, which she has transformed in more ways than discretion admits.

As with our 2013 stay in Rome, the Pope’s invitation has been lost in the mail.

But we are soon headed for Assisi, putting our faith in the trains, as planned many months ago.

And his Eminence will be arriving the same day, signs say, in a quite different way.

Now if our two parties can only avoid sharing a bus up to the top of the hill.

Armed with a better map this year, we are off to find the portico we’ve always missed.

Parts of the journey are familiar: past Piazza Collicola and the Hotel Charleston, for instance.

But eventually we find ourselves in unknown territory: passing through Porta S. Matteo, e.g.

And finally, the destination is in view: rather pedestrian (literally), if truth be told.

Unless, looking back, you appreciate the climb or the Duomo’s commanding presence.

Still searching for the Goethe epigraph to these photographs.
(Rebecca promises to translate it if I can just find it again.)
Meanwhile, a few of the multiplex of pixels I have expended.