When The Bean was way back in Canada this August, I decided I would take advantage of Monte Nuovo, the Volcano that we live on the foot of. The idea was to climb the fucker on a regular basis to tighten up my butt and try and shed my belly. It was invigorating. In addition to the workout, I enjoyed the tinkling sound that the scree made as my scrambling feet dislodged volcanic rocks from the side of the mountain. Once I made it to the top I walked around the crater, taking a path that I never took before. At first the path was wide enough for two to walk side by side, but it soon got crowded by the vegetation. The undergrowth in the area is often dominated by a vine with barbed hooks that catch and scratch, similary to raspberry bushes, though I haven’t seen them producing the sweet/tart berries that I use to scavenge for through the Black Creek in North York during my youth. I pushed on, since the path went to the west end of the mountain and I wanted to try and find a clearing that would let me catch the setting sun. I found no such break in the canopy, and it just got darker and darker. Soon, clusters of spider webs were cropping up around me in ever increasing numbers. As I went on, webs strung across the path brushed across my face constantly. I started to feel as if I was being watched by countless eyes, one for each leg that clung to a string in a web. If there were enough of them, could they take me? 
I hurried on, spitting out webs as I went. Slowly, I made my way around the mountain, finally to a point where the path widened and opened up . I was now on the east side of the mountain though, so I hopped a fence to get back onto a path that I recognized as being within the park at the top the volcano and, made my way up to the summit, hurrying not to lose the sunset. I made it with time to spare, eating the salami, cheese and bread that I had brought with me. After which I sat and watched the sun sink into the Mediterranean. 
Sun goes down, moon comes up. From where I was watching the sun go down you can see Capri, and in fact the entire bay of Napoli; the moon was right over Capri, it’s light reflecting a silver road from the island to the foot of Monte Nuovo. I sat in the dark and enjoyed. Making my way down the mountain in the dark was treacherous, with only the tinkling of volcanic scree falling down the mountainside to keep me company.
By the time I got home I was too tired to do much more than laze about and go to bed. When I woke up I found bits of dried vegetation on my pillow, so I brushed out all of the twigs, leaves and webs from my hair….
