I lifted this photo from the Italian America Facebook page--and I don't usually lift other people's photos for this blog. It's just that this one reminded me powerfully of a little hole in the wall cafe around the corner from the hostel I stayed in the last time I was in Venice, researching Love, Lucy.
I ate my cornetto and drank my cappucino standing at the bar, and felt simultaneously like I was having a private moment, but also was part of something, among friends. The guy behind the bar chatted with regulars who came in and out. The cornetto was perfect--crisp and fragrant and just a little bit sweet--as was my cappucino, and all of Venice waited just outside the door to be explored.
The next morning, and the morning after that, I wandered the streets around the hostel, looking for that same cafe, but somehow I just couldn't find it. But this morning I woke to this photo and felt like I'd accidentally wandered back in.