Dante’s 14th century poem, The Divine Comedy, begins with a man “midway” through his life—and he’s walking down the road. In medieval Italy, in Florence (or, in Dante’s case at the time, just outside Florence), looking out his window, looking up at the stars every night, these hillsides and mountains provide him with just the … Continue reading The real stuff that is out there wanting to be known. You know. Poetry. Landscapes. Persons. →