Anyone with an artistic background has heard about the wonderful qualities of the light around the Mediterranean Sea. Painters from the time of the Renaissance have glorified their subjects in the beauty of that light. Photographers, whether working in black & white or color, have come to recognize what their artistic ancestors have known for centuries. But always there was that nagging little wrinkle, something that niggled at the back of the mind, saying, "Light is light and the sun is the sun and it comes up in the east and sets in the west, and if you are at the same latitude anywhere in the world, there can be no difference."

I was lucky enough to first experience the wonders of Mediterranean light on my honeymoon in Italy. Since all my grandparents were born in Italy, from Pisa to Asti to the Veneto, I had often dreamed about making some sort of pilgrimage to see the "homeland." That I was able to combine this dream while showing my wife around all the "old haunts," only made the trip that much more enjoyable.

We started off in Milano (Milan). Described by many as too dirty, too industrial and too crowded, Milano still offered the newcomer some of the essential sights, sounds and smells of Italy. First sight: A pair of carabinieri with machine pistols patrolling the hardstand under our 747. Memories of the Red Brigades had not faded. First sounds: The beauty of the Italian language, being used to its fullest by one driver condemning another driver's parentage or extolling the virtues of the careers of various family members. First smells: Stepping into Peck, a truly amazing Milanese delicatessen, if you can get away with calling Peck a deli.

One does not necessarily connect Milano with the virtues of Mediterranean light. It has too many cars, too much noise and too much hustle, reminiscent of too many American cities. It blurs the vision and clouds the thoughts. But, it does give you Il Duomo and La Galleria and La Scala and the Via Montenapoleone. Here, you can sooth your quest for a perfect example of a Gothic cathedral, a prototypical shopping mall, the craving for the arts and some of the best shopping for fashion in Italy.

After a few days to get acclimated, we left Milano behind and hopped onto the train for Firenze (Florence). Firenze lives up to all expectations and dreams. And the light! The glorious Mediterranean light. At the time we journeyed to Italy on our honeymoon, I was self-employed as a photographer, and in fact had been one of those skeptics of light being light anywhere in the world. Firenze was about to open my eyes and my mind!

There really is something about Firenze that lends itself to the mind of the artist, more than just the light. It is walking down the same streets, past the same buildings the Renaissance painters walked past. It is looking at the architectural wonders that the Medici and the Renaissance Guilds sponsored. And most of all, it is the wonderful friendliness of the Fiorentini themselves. My command of the Italian language threatens no interpreter at the UN. However, no one tried to take advantage of our situation, no one brushed us off for not speaking perfect Italian, everyone was most generous and helpful in getting us to our desired destination.

But I must still come back to The Light. The Light was a catalyst, one that intensified the joy of the trip, the joy of being in the land of my family and the joy of sharing it with someone I love. And it all came together on our first afternoon in Firenze.

We had quickly developed the strategy of, upon arrival at our destination, dropping off our bags, taking a quick nap and then getting out to explore our surroundings by taking a long walk. Firenze is the perfect place to conduct such an exploration. We took in Il Duomo and the Baptistry. We found that Italian essential, gelato, and quickly concluded that this, indeed, after only four days in Italy, had to be the best gelato in Italy. We crossed the Arno on the Ponte Vecchio, walked up to the Pitti Palace, one of the homes of the Medici. We found where we would return to shop for silk scarves, for leather belts and purses, a cameo for a gift.

And then, having stretched our legs and exhausted our feet, we headed back across the Ponte Vecchio. Those who know of the Ponte Vecchio will be familiar with its structure. For those who are unfamiliar with it, the Ponte Vecchio, the "Old Bridge," crosses the Arno River. This bridge dates back to well before the time of The Renaissance. On it, you will see a number of buildings, once the homes of the citizens of Florence, now filled with small shops. It connects some of the oldest, and most historical, sections of Firenze, with the Uffizi Gallery not two blocks away, just a few blocks from Il Duomo and the Pitti Palace on the other bank. The Ponte Vecchio is as much a symbol of old Firenze as it is of the Firenze of today.

By the time we had started our return journey to our hotel, it was getting on towards sunset. We had stopped to gaze in many shop windows as we strolled back across the bridge. In the middle of the bridge is an open area; you have a clear picture looking down or up the river and then, into the sunset. We paused to take in the views: the river, the bridge and experience the epiphany of Mediterranean light.

As the sun got closer to the horizon, the golds and yellows and reds of the Mediterranean light deepened from the pastels of 6:30 to the watercolors of 7:00 to the oils of 7:20. The beauty of the day, the place, and the time, became palpable. These colors were alive, and realizing that, I could only say a quick prayer of thanks for being at that place, at that time, enjoying and sharing it all with my bride, and finally understanding what five centuries of depicting Mediterranean light had evolved into.

©2007 Rick Oldano
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