Bassano del Grappa, Italy

There's a moment when the light slips behind the hills and you're left in the sunset's negative space. Crickets buzz. A clocktower dings. Suddenly, you're aware of just how empty the streets have become. Gates? Down. Bikes? Gone.

Then, it happens.

A window opens overhead. You hear a radio somewhere, there. Bottles clink. Knives tap -- against a wooden cutting block, no less. Shuffling, rustling, life above and beyond whirls to its third act of the day. And you can't imagine being any place better than paused on an empty street.

Listening to the symphony.