Cusago, Italy: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme Scent A Visconti Castle.

A trip to the public library pays off when a coffee-table book details off-radar Milan-area castles. Cusago’s busy flower market means spring flora for Italy’s copious balconies and terraces.

‘Make sure you play Simon and Garfunkel when we get home, alright?’ Parsley (prezzemolo), thyme (timo) and oregano (origano) are among plants here that double as spice.

Got mine, ready to go: Husband and wife head home after purchasing flowers beside the Visconti castle. A commuter town, Cusago is 11 miles west of Milan’s outer city limits. Few big-city Italians have gardens. Most live in apartment buildings, some of which have spacious terraces.

Days Of Frisbees And Campus Greens: Cusago’s Visconti castle is a reminder of the Middle Ages. The afternoon journey required rides involving a tram, a trolly bus, a subway, a train and yet another public bus. On the train trip back, a young Neapolitan conductor waved off my efforts to pay for fare: “Va bene”—don’t worry about it. Other conductors can be strict, though.

Vintage forest green, à la Eugene, Oregon: A classic Volkswagen bus rests on ground closer to the castle facade, where a separate market sells spring-time clothing and apparel.

‘I always promised you a rose garden.’ In Italy, red roses—when given by men—symbolize romantic love. For friendship, a white rose is suitable.

Just one more little thing—please: A flea market sells antiquities beside an even older edifice. Cusago’s castle, built in the 14th century, served as a hunting lodge for mean Bernabò Visconti. He was ‘Lord of Milan’ and no one messed with him until his comeuppance.

A woman’s entitled to a smoke: Electronic cigarettes in Italy have grown in popularity, especially among women, as traditional tobacco-smoking has declined the last 20 years. Hollowed facial cheeks result in some cases from years of puffing. In Peru, thin-cheeked smokers are called: “Chupato.”

Bound for the balcony: This husband likes his roses, with red among the shades. A little pasta, a little red wine and then . . .

Botany 101: The names for Italian flowers sometimes correspond to English and share similar etymology.

Fare thee well: A woman salutes her pals.

Mommy, don’t you know how to take a selfie?

‘Get outta here,’ warns Mr. Gamecock, as in South Carolina: A rooster veers from his harem of fenced-in hens, crowing to traffic on the road to Cusago: “Cock-a-doodle-do.” In the fringes of Milan, chickens occasionally run freely. A southwest, Mo., rooster scratched me on the face in the early 1970s.

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Rain’s-uh-comin’ tomorrow: Why would a UO Duck ever worry about that?

Note from editor to readers: A close read of poetic lyrics suggests “Scarborough Fair” may describe a fallen soldier—perhaps an allusion to the Vietnam War—hoping his girlfriend plants herbs at his grave site, just north of Sleepy Hollow, N.Y. The slightly melancholy song mystified me as a kindergartener in early 1970s Pocatello, Idaho.