As summer ended, the sun lost its strength, temperatures dropped, and colors became muted. Autumn is when Mother Nature awakens and shows off her splendid colors. In these posts, I walked through Giardino Bardini, strolled along the Arno, and spotted the Duomo down a darkened street.
Ponte Santa Trinita — August 23, 2025
While out for a stroll around San Lorenzo, I noted the sky had a golden hue. Instead of heading home, I walked toward Via Tornabuoni. A horse and carriage trotted behind me as I passed the luxury shops, which were already closed.
With every step toward Piazza Santa Trinita, I heard an opera singer performing below the Statua della Giustizia. His impressive voice added another dimension to the timeless beauty surrounding us.
I then walked to center of Ponte Santa Trinita and stood in my favorite spot. As the orangey sun slipped behind San Frediano in Cestello, a cool breeze flowed east, brushing my hair off my shoulders.
Many sat on the bridge watching the sunset and admiring the riverscape. A few tourists paused to film the solo guitarist jamming while the sun was setting behind him.
I was delighted to spot a tourist boat traveling over the Arno’s dark-colored waters past Ponte alla Carraia. This summer, the renaioli (sand digger boats) haven’t returned because of construction work above the river.
Once the sun disappeared, I made my way to the Ponte Vecchio. When I arrived at the Vicolo dell’Oro, I turned around. While the sky blazed with brilliant warm tones, I rushed to the brick wall and relished the sunset until the sky dimmed.
Giardino Bardini — September 3, 2025
After having coffee with a friend in San Niccolò, I decided to take a stroll around Giardino Bardini. The moment I exited the villa to reach the garden, my shoulders relaxed. A wave of tranquility swept through me as I marched up the gravel path. The cool air refreshed me while the intense rays of sunlight warmed me up.
I passed through the pergola covered with glicine (wisteria). The long brownish pods dangled from the bright green leaves. Upon reaching the terrace, where people enjoyed lunch and drinks under the loggia, I turned the corner to explore the uliveto (olive grove).
My footsteps landed on the rust-colored chestnut leaves scattered on the grass. When I paused under an olive tree, looking for grappoli di olive (bunches of olives), a waft of thyme swirled around me. I leaned over to touch the tiny leaves and blossoms at my feet and inhaled their sweet perfume.
I roamed around the trees, admiring their twisted branches. Some reached up to the sky, while others spread out. When I arrived back at the dirt path, I headed toward the terrace, glimpsed the veduta (view), and descended the path. I retraced my steps back to the uliveto.
I circled around the trees again, studying them even more. As I stood alongside the trunks, searching for olives, the half-past noon bells chimed. Afterward, I contemplated the stillness. My heart felt lighter and yet fuller.
On my way down the garden, I sat down on a wooden bench in the lower garden. As I faced the panorama, I contemplated all the beauty around me. Not just the city, but also the lawn, white and yellow roses, trees, and tall hedges all encircled me with love.
Lungarno degli Archibusieri — September 10, 2025
As the sun was setting, I walked through the Piazzale degli Uffizi, where the crowds had dispersed. I turned down Via Lambertesca, a narrow one-way street with gentle curves that leads to Via Por Santa Maria.
I arrived at the intersection as a taxi passed, clearing my path across. I continued down Borgo Sant’Apostoli, where the uneven slabs of stone were a challenge to navigate. I looked over my shoulder many times to make sure a car wasn’t approaching.
By the time I arrived on Ponte Santa Trinita, the sun had already slipped behind San Frediano in Cestello. With no clouds to capture the sun’s last rays, I kept walking across the bridge.
With no cars around, I ran across Via Maggio, gazing at the empty fountain. I passed the nook between two buildings along Borgo San Jacopo, but upon reflection I backtracked to stand on the terrace above the Arno. The sunrays emitted a sharp light, engulfing everything in gold.
I zigzagged through the pedestrians on the Ponte Vecchio and returned to Lungarno degli Archibusieri, where I walked alongside the walkway below the Corridoio Vasariano.
Many had gathered along the brick wall that slopes up to the Uffizi. Some were taking pictures while others were conversing. When a woman slid off the wall and walked away, I slipped into the space. The warm sunlight glowed behind the Ponte Vecchio and touched a few feathery clouds.
I leaned on the barrier to take in more of the riverscape. The yellow leaves of the creeping vines, patrons enjoying an aperitivo, and empty tables with white tablecloths on the meadow below. I would have liked to stay longer to watch the boats come and go. When a woman extended her arm over my shoulder to photograph the scene, I knew it was time to go.
By the time I arrived home, the sky was somber. Nothing like what I had seen only a few moments earlier.
Via dell’Oriuolo — September 22, 2025
The sky was split in two. To the west, dark clouds spread across the sky. To the east, tiny white clouds were sprinkled around the pale blue sky. They predicted rain, but while I was walking down Borgo Pinti toward the center, not a drop had come.
The air was colder than yesterday, with gusts of chilly wind kicking up. When I arrived at the intersection of Via Sant’Egidio, I looked down Via dell’Oriuolo and was drawn to the Duomo’s glowing cupola.
I headed toward it, walking around a small crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk. In the distance, a car stopped at a parking lot, preventing other cars from passing. While the driver was talking with the parking attendant, I sped up to get in front of the cars to have a clear view.
I captured a few photos before a woman rushed past me and ended up in my last picture. While walking back toward the Volta di San Piero, my face was spattered with water. The heavens gave no warning: no thunder and no lightning.
By the time I made it to my ortolano (greengrocer) in Piazza di San Pier Maggiore, I took cover under the awning. Heavy raindrops pitter-pattered on the fruits and vegetables protected by a plastic sheet. Crowds gathered under the arch as they were unprepared for the storm, hoping it would pass quickly.
Heavy rain continued to fall as I navigated the winding streets, carrying a bag of groceries in each hand. My rain jacket protected me somewhat as I kept close to the buildings, which sheltered me from getting wet.
An hour later, white wispy clouds slithered north, showing off a clear sky.
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