This morning I woke up to the church bells chiming and the rain falling on the roof above my head. After I got out of bed, I stood at the window with my legs leaning against the radiator as it was warming up. The sky was a blanket of grey with the outlines of a few clouds floating slowly past while rain was falling straight down in hazy lines. The smoke billowing out of the chimney of a palazzo (building) across the Arno, which is now a dull green, caught my eye. The streets below were virtually empty with a few people walking by holding umbrellas above their heads. In Italian, it's the only day we wish for people to enjoy: "Buona Domenica (Have a good Sunday)," my friends and I say to each other. Some people make the same wish about weekends, but more do so about Sundays. When I wake up to a quiet Sunday like today, I realize that there is so much to enjoy.