The Snows of Rome

It was our plan to be in Venice this weekend, on a little research trip, but there was an uncharacteristic nip in the air and the weather bulletin spoke — initially we were all skeptical — of snow.  Snow !  There had been no real snow in Rome since January of 1985, and before that no snow since the 1970s.  I remember — I was close to three — the memorable snowstorm of 1965, which brought 40 centimeters (15 inches) of snow to city center Rome, inspiring my father to create some of his legendary snow sculptures on our terrace.

Rome’s mayor Alemanno called off all school on Friday, and the children thus lay in wait for the first flakes.  Which in fact was nearly all drizzle, with a small amount of snow.

While our strawberries were still ripening on the terrace, and an elegant little eggplant still hanging on the plant, Rome’s Il Messaggero urged us to take in our frost-sensitive plants, so we shepherded in 57 pots — the lemons, geraniums, lantana, plumbago and everything in smaller pots — turning our living room, hallway and stairwell into a grand greenhouse.

And so we went to bed last night.

And awakened to…

These children had never seen anything but a flake or two of snow in their city.

What they saw was this :

The mayor announced that Rome was in a state of “catastrophe” and that we should all take shovels and start to clear snow.  We do not own a shovel.  Those neighbors who for one reason or other felt the need to use cars today were attempting to clear paths for themselves with mops, brooms, children’s sand shovels and windscreen scrapers.

We did have an appetite, however, picqued by the close-to-freezing weather.  Thus, after a hot chocolate at our beloved Dolci Desideri

.. we were off

through a city without a visible snow plow, and where our friend Dario, owner of our favorite restaurant, emerged with a tablecloth-apron round his waist, to announce that he did not remember seeing snow like this since the 1960s.

And into a winter wonderland.

Never have we seen our neighborhood park, Villa Sciara, so full.  It literally resounded with an air of greatest festivity !

Umbrella Pine

SPQR

As the children toboggoned on their bottoms down a steep hill with palm trees as obstacles

We gazed in wonder at the view before us.  It was close-to-impossible to leave it, familiar old Rome with its magical dusting of snow.  Most remarkable of all was the Pantheon rimmed in white.

And when at last we turned back towards home, we found more festive Romans pouring into the park.

A copper polenta pot caught our eyes, on display at the local hardware store.

Once home, some of us cooked polenta, while others made a snow-lady.

Lunch was soon served.

A little snow as an antipasto.

Cin-Cin ! 

With warming polenta of course to follow.