| In the midst of gentle falling rain and hints of sunshine -- una bella giornata -- came the ombre, the shadow, of terrorism in Spain. 11 marzo. 11 settembre. The Italian newspapers immediately saw the comparison, my friends here saw the parallel -- even Gina, my former padrona di casa from the time when I lived here in September of 2001, told me that she thought of our experience together that day 911 days ago. The European press sees it as the first grand terrorist strike on the continent. This was even before the link to Al Qaeda had been made. That afternoon I walked by a group of tearful young people, surrounding a doorway near the Spanish Steps. It was only later that I realized they were Spanish college students and young travellers, desperately seeking news from the embassy of their loved ones back home. There is a greater police presence everywhere I look in Rome. Especially in the piazzas and the train station. When I returned by train from Assisi shortly before noon -- there was a message, in Italian, on the PA system, then translated into English -- for the citizens of the EU states to observe three minutes of silence for those killed in Madrid. I passed several cameras setting up to get their shots. I observed those moments in my own way -- contemplating that loss, silently, privately, while going to catch my bus. La Vita Continua.
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