The Echo of Rain in Rome’s Timeless Streets
Rome awoke to a morning draped in a soft, silvery mist, the kind that seemed to blur the edges of the city and wrap it in a dreamlike haze. The air was cool, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth and the distant tang of the Tiber River. The temperature lingered at 52°F (11°C), with a forecasted high of 61°F (16°C) and a low of 46°F (8°C) by nightfall. The sky was a tapestry of gray, its clouds heavy with the promise of rain, though for now, the city remained dry. The wind was gentle, barely stirring the leaves of the umbrella pines that lined the streets, but there was a crispness to the air that whispered of spring’s hesitant arrival. In Trastevere, the day began slowly, as if the neighborhood itself was reluctant to disturb the quiet of the morning. The cobblestone streets were slick with dew, their surfaces reflecting the pale light of the rising sun. At Caffè Lungara 1940, the aroma of freshly brewed espresso and warm cornetto wafted through the air, drawing in early...