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Mohammed makes my bouquet

I spent yesterday afternoon with Mohammed, a homeless Iranian architect, a vagabond by nature, a kind man who helps all the other homeless people less fortunate than he. He lives with three or four dogs, and visiting pigeons, cats, seagulls, lizards and human friends, in a camper by the sea, at the Foro Italico, just outside the city gate known as Porta Felice, at the bottom of Corso Vittorio Emanuele, where it meets the Mediterranean Sea. It is a beautiful, peaceful spot, with a view of Mount Pellegrino, and the port, the cruise ships, the white sailboats and yachts in harbor, surrounded by wildflowers and jasmine-scented flowering bushe, and below, the beach, the fathers fishing from shore with their sons, casting their hooks, the wild dogs swim in the sea and men bring their race horses here to bathe. Mohammed made me a bouquet of wildflowers he gathered on the strand.
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