Five Senses - Florence: Eight in the Morning

Expresso and hissing steamed milk, sweet sugared rolls, revving engines through narrow streets, high heels click on concrete and stone, words of greeting, buongiorno and ciao, words of goodbye, Florentine fashion on parade, ancient heavy keys unlocking ancient doors, hidden courtyards hidden lives, rustling newspapers, crowded coffee bars, pedestrians criss crossing, silk scarves on old necks in the morning chill, rattles of work, rough hands holding metal on stone, metal on wood, machine gun motors and shoulder bags, school uniforms and back packs, hazy blue skies with hazy deisal smoke, echoes in quiet lanes slowly fading away.

Text by Bryen Lebar
Picture by Sandro Santioli