Rethinking human relationship with the animal creation is not everyone’s cup of tea.
There are nymphs in the Vatican Gardens. You will find them painted – chastely attired, as they represent characters in sacred history – on the walls of the Renaissance pavilion that houses the Pontifical Academy of Sciences.
I recall them as I recall Pope Benedict. His death has prompted so many reflections. My earliest memory of him dates from the time of my ill-starred lecture to the Academy, early in his pontificate. During my visit to that august body, I slept in the Domus Sanctae Marthae, between sheets rigid with starch, on a bracingly hard bed. The walls were undecorated except for a high-nailed crucifix. The room had gravity: heavy furnishings of chestnut and solid fittings of glowing brass. It proclaimed grandeur with austerity, cost without comfort.
