Sicilian Diary

"Ognuno sta solo sul cuor della terra/ Trafitto da un raggio di sole: ed è subito sera." Salvatore Quasimodo

They call it "cambio stagione" here, that time when you pull out your warmer clothes from under the bed, or the bag at the bottom of the wardrobe, when you need to drag out the winter duvet and pack away the summer sheets until Spring. I dread this moment every year for this reason: dust. No matter how well I pack the clothes, no matter how many plastic bags, dust gets there. So I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze. I'm not alone in this - several friends have remarked on having the same problem. This provides some consolation but how, we wonder, could we prevent it. There is not even half this amount of dust in Ireland. It gets places I'd never even think of, like the inner grooves of radiators, collects in dust balls on the lampshade of a terracotta lamp. I've even had to store all my books in drawers - in a chest of drawers! - because their pages are so full of dust. I blame it on sirocco, that nasty south east wind. So forget that tourist brochure image of sunny Sic...