Some recollections strolling Villa Comunale, Taormina’s public gardens, late this June: summer neared; skies were clear and blue; vibrant bougainvillea cascaded; avenues were cool and shaded; goldfish swam, and people wandered.

Once the garden of the Englishwoman Florence Trevelyan, created in the late 19^th century, Taormina’s Villa Comunale has intricate, storeyed follies or 'beehives' as Florence Trevelyan called them (Raleigh Trevelyan, The Companion Guide to Sicily) of stone and brick, a little time worn and infused with sheer magic.

And lots of 'tall trunked' trees (a perfect term, read on the garden's information sign) including olives, pines, cypresses, and palms, magnolias, pepperinas and silky oaks.

Beds of cannas; pots of geraniums and fico d’India; tiled geometric pathways of brick and pebble; ponds; curved stairways; breathtaking views of the Ionian Sea from garden balconies; angels basking; memorials to Taormina's fallen and Florence Trevelyan Caaciola (she married a local Sicilian surgeon).

And, I saw in Raleigh Trevelyan's Companion Guide To Sicily that there is a dogs' cemetry where Florence Trevelyan's beloved dogs are buried. I didn't come across their graves.

The gardens were a retreat as summer began to descend on this fabled resort town.

Salve,

Suzanne