the eeriness of a city sleeping

one of my favorite things about italy is the solitude of her morning. in venice in particular. too dark still to be morning long after it should, the only sounds being the faint swish of the brooms sweeping the streets of yesterday and the mild rushing of water through the canals, venice mornings have a hauntingly romantic feel about it.

dc mornings, on the other hand, though similarly dereft of life beyond the grumbling street sweepers, are more akin to the ruins abandoned by the traveling carnival. trash and half-eaten food everywhere, broken glass littering the walkways, dead rats strewn about, the smell of garbage drifting through air bogged down by soggy humidity, and a more americanized version of the street sweeper bitching about the pigs and the trough they make of the streets. notwithsanding its eww factor, dc mornings have their own air of intrigue.

and as different as their mornings can be, there really is something captivating in walking the streets of a city so typically swelling with life and sparkle, in those rare moments when even it gives in to the allure of sleep.

~k