“To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere, without moving anything but your heart.”
Mailboxes for all seasons
It was a sunny day and the postman was stepping down the cramped walkway to his small vehicle. Suddenly, from five floors up on the balcony of the apartment building a man yelled down. “Postino! “Postino! Postino!” (Postman)
Having just descended from the bus and following the same pathway as the postman, we both looked up. However, he responded as if it was an everyday occurence to have someone yelling at you from above. “Sì? “ Yes? he asked the white haired man peering over his balcony from five floors up. “Did you deliver mail to me?” he shouted in Italian. “No. Not today!” the postman shouted back.
All the while, the bus passed, cars drove by, and street pedestrians kept walking, no eyes except mine ever looking up to hear the italian ruckus of the busy little moment of the small little town life.
The man above now content to not have to walk the many floors down to check the mail roared out a “Grazie” (thank you) to the postman and went back inside. The postman entered his small vehicle and continued on to his route.
From my point of view, the American gal walking down the street it was quite the random encounter but here it is what you do everyday. After all, who wants to walk down flights of stairs to get the mail if you don’t have any? I wouldn’t and neither did the man it seemed.
Another random small town Italian adventure.
- Ciao from Italy