Wherever one looks this stormy evening, there are lights. Only Motovun and the surrounding villages are in the dark. On and off, for hours upon hours. We are privileged, of course. No vapid television or radio. No baffling Internet. No useless cooking. No wasteful heating or air-conditioning. No silly refrigeration. Only candles and oil lamps. The way things used to be in the good old days. As befits the center of the world, we are invisible. Unreachable. Indeed, almost untouchable.

Addendum (September 19, 2007)

I could not stop myself from sending this piece to Ivan Jakovčić, the governor of Istria. And so I carefully looked for a postcard on the back of which I could paste it. After some fumbling through my vast collection, I found just what I was looking for. The postcard shows a black-and-white photograph of a meandering procession at Lourdes. The photo was taken at night. Everyone in the procession is holding a burning candle. There are thousands of flickering lights in this wonderful image. I hope the governor will appreciate it as much as I do. Anyhow, I have a feeling I will be sending him my postcards quite regularly now. He had better get used to them, too.