San Francesco

It was such a lovely day yesterday that Maria drove me to see a monastery founded by Saint Francis of Assisi. It is nestled in between two steep hills in the crook of a valley. I peeked into the tiny and simple cell that housed St. Francis and stopped to pray in a small chapel. Maria comes here to worship because it is such a simple place full of peace. There is a waterfall that tumbles down the rocky mountain bi-secting the simple complex. On one side are the tiny cells where the monks reside and chapels for prayer and reflection, and on the other gardens and olive trees. The two halves are connected by two ancient stone bridges (ponti). It is a most holy of places.

On the way back to the house we drove to the top of Cortona to Chiesa di Santa Margherita, a beautiful church. Evening services were in progress so I stole quietly into the back of the church to gaze at the brilliantly painted ceilings and lovely glass chandeliers. Behind the altar the glass tomb of Saint Margherita containing her mortal remains is reverently displayed. I want to come back another day to explore the church and to pray in peace. It is up a terribly long, steep hill so my rubbery legs will need much more conditioning before I can tackle that journey. It will be my pilgrimage.

We drove back through the ancient upper town, through a maze of tiny twisting streets ribboned between lovely and simple stone cottages decorated with lovely wooden doors, wrought iron balustrades and door tops, and cascading flowers. At one point we got stuck when we encountered a car parked in the middle of the narrow street with no driver in evidence. We honked in vain then, finally, I got out to help Maria back the car up a small hill into a tiny drive bordered by unforgiving stone walls to return up the hill from whence we’d come. This time we were accompanied by much smoke and the smell of burning rubber. The clutch on her car will likely need replacing sometime soon!