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I donít know why I feel such an affinity for this bridge. It spans the Arno River, connecting both sides of Florence, Italy, and has held the footsteps of merchants and travelers for centuries. I appreciate the windows, each in various stages of undress, revealing reflections and shuttered hopes. The afternoon light collects on the shopworn stucco as I sit to watch the end of the day. The light in Florence has captivated artists for ages. I, myself, remain its hostage.