Latin Contemplation in Flight

<p><em>Looks like it&rsquo;s starting to rain,&nbsp;</em>I thought as I felt drops land on my shoulders and backpack while waiting for the 8 tram on a stop by the Tiber. I was not paying close attention. My brain was throbbing after two and half hours of Italian class, and I was indulging my ears with a podcast in English, a guilty oasis from the still unfamiliar language around me. My forecast was confirmed by a woman next to me opening a yellow umbrella, but the disgust on her face caught my eye. Curious, I took the headphones out of my ears. A thick drone topped with shrill creaking enveloped me. I looked up in horror to see that the trees above were choking under a shadowy sea of&hellip; birds. The so-called raindrop on my shoulder glowed dark green in the purple dusk as another plopped behind me. With a racing heart, I walked to the next stop.</p> <p><a href="https://medium.com/in-medias-res/latin-contemplation-in-flight-68c05c093ddc"><strong>Website</strong></a></p>