The B&B was tucked into the mountain backdrop of the lake. It was the home of two ancient Italians who spoke no English, yet communicated everything seamlessly with elaborate gestures. We settled into their singular guest room and listened to the faint Italian opera and heavy rain swirling outside our window. The rain thickened into droplets of hail, clattering above and drowning out any notes of song still playing. The smell of wet pine wafted into the light-less wooden room. Trapped in the effect of our own spontaneity, our next move felt unclear. We turned to face each other in wonder and waited until the rain finally ceased. 

The lake was still, unbothered by any ruckus from above, when we winded down the hillside. A huge concert hall emerged as we pulled into the only place to park our tiny rental fiat. We wandered inside to find hundreds of elderly, elegant Italian couples dancing. It was an Italian dance I'd never seen before, somewhere between a salsa and a waltz. There was a live performer in an orange dress, far younger than the majority, belting out theatrically as she weaved about the couples in twirls. Behind her, a coral bow-tie wearing band jammed away. All the couples were doing the same steps, yet only in rhythm with their partner, communicating in their own language. It was as if their hearts had been doing this synchronized dance for decades on end. Not one pair of eyes broke apart from their other half. We sat watching in fascination, not daring to step out on the floor, knowing our colored hair would draw attention to the reality that we weren’t nearly as in sync. 

The B&B couple laid out a breakfast feast the next morning…cheese, hams, breads, juices and jams. I pictured how they might dance with one another. As we ate, Adel and I stared at each other and the old Italians stared at us. Rain began to rattle outside, opera belted from one room over, but in the kitchen, eyes were wide open and mouths were shut, aside from brief moments to sip the juice and chew the bread. What peace among strangers in such intimate silence.