Ad ogni uccello...: The Misty Mountain

Yes--I am borrowing from J.R.R. Tolkien for this title, but it is too fitting. I simply had to do it.

Last week, Antonella, Giuseppe, Salvo, and I went to Mt. Etna for a little excursion out of the house. The weather that day was beautiful at first; bright, sunny, and warm. As we gradually ascended the side of the volcano, the skies became enveloped in a dense fog and rain began to drizzle on our car. At least, for me in was a light drizzle, for the rest of my companions it was raining cats and dogs. I continually have to remind them that I'm from the Pacific Northwest where it rains over 200 days of the year. The further we drove away from the streets of Catania and up the mountain I felt as if I was getting closer and closer to Washington State, or at least the weather of my home. I felt comforted. Where many take great pleasure in feeling the sunlight on the skin, feeling its warmth surge through their bodies, I find my pleasure in the rain. The enclosing fog reminded me of the early mornings rowing on the water in Port Townsend, the stillness of the bay, the sounds of the fog horn in the distance, the world calm in the precious moments between sleeping and waking. As we reached a tourist summit where we could walk to Crateri Silvestri, one of the main craters, Giuseppe was teasing me about how I must feel right at home with this kind of weather. He chuckled, thinking himself very clever, yet he did not realize that his words were a compliment in my eyes, not a joke.

Everything was eerily beautiful. Antonella kept telling me she wished I could have been there on a clear day to see the view. There was no doubting that the view would be majestic, but I could not have imagined a better day to come on. When I have thought about Etna before as I have watched it looming over the city, I have always imagined it as a place of dark beauty. It is a glorious sight to behold, but an unnerving one as well. The volcano is still active and could truly erupt at any given moment. The craters are constantly fuming, releasing gases that keep the mountain under constant pressure. All along the hillside there are villas that are now abandoned, destroyed by the lava that rushed down from Crateri Silvestri in 2001 and 2002. Hardened, black lava rock has now formed in the doorways and windows where the once red-hot liquid seeped through the narrow openings. Now these once glorious villas stand as relics attesting to how nature will always conquer man.

We spent some time exploring the craters and natural lava caves, and then we retreated to a landmark restaurant on Etna to escape the bitter chill. The owner and waiter there were so pleased to host an American girl for a bit and eagerly offered to make me a cappuccino. In Italy, it is not custom to take coffee with milk after about 10:30 in the morning, but they were so gracious in their offer it felt rude to say no. It was an exceptionally delicious cappuccino and the perfect antidote to my cold hands. As we drank our coffees, the waiter brought me a few postcards of the location and a book on the most recent eruptions of Mt. Etna. He spoke some English and began to tell me about how the restaurant was destroyed and rebuilt after the eruptions in 2001 and 2002. Like the villas along the hillside, lava flowed through the restaurant and out of the windows and doors. It was wonderful to hear him tell all about the history. He was obviously enthralled with the history of the volcano and proud of how the restaurant has survived over the years, and eager to share with a willing listener. He was so kind that he even gave me the postcards, the book, and the cappuccino free of charge--he was just happy to sit and talk with someone who did not already know everything about the volcano he loves so much. It was yet another example of how unbelievably kind the people are here.

I will be sure to write about some more about my outings here in these finals two weeks. It is still hard to believe it has gone by this quickly. Comunque, a dopo!

You can't tell by the pictures, but it was in fact very windy as well. I got a kick out of watching Salvo make several attempts to light his cigarette before finally admitting defeat.