LOOKING BACK.

tuscansunrise

Last week was a tiny bit chaotic. Winter is a lingering houseguest who refuses to get the hint that it’s time to leave. My camera is collecting dust, waiting to have purpose once again. In times like these, there is only one answer. Italy. The photographs I have of Italy are medicine for my soul. An early morning gliding through the Italian countryside with sleepy vineyards and misty hills. I think I could ride that train for forever.

More Italy goodness.

GO HE SAID.

Until rock gives way to sea, gives way to
Salt and air and the elements all—
Until feet touch land that creaks, melts and sighs.
Rippling, crashing, splitting beneath you,
Its tired arms open to the cold of night—
Everything frozen, everything hushed.
And then, with eyes at rest, look closely.
Closer.
Closer still.
And in that moment, you will find me—
Indeed you will see.

LOST IN THE BOBOLI.

All too often I find myself thinking of Italy. Probably every day. Okay, every second. But it really is hard not to. Especially when you order wild mushroom ravioli at Circa and it tastes as if they flew it in from a cafe in Florence minutes before you arrived. Yumm. I could go on and on about everything that is amazingly Italian but I think these photos from the Boboli Gardens in Florence say a lot. The architecture, history, and natural beauty all meld together into a place where time magically disappears.

And that is just what happened on this lovely day. The closing announcements sounded and Zuzanna and I found ourselves sprinting for the nearest exit. The nearest exit of course happened to be on the opposite side of the entrance, 2 miles away from the city center. It was a nice, long walk home. The memory will forever bring a smile to my face.