It’s 7 p.m. on a
weeknight, not sure which one since I’m on holiday and I prefer to keep it that
way. I’m sitting outside in the backyard on the patio with a glass of Chianti
(entire bottle under 5euro by the way. One of the benefits of vacationing in
the Chianti region; not by accident I assure you) and my almost 8 year old
daughter beside me with her journal and a pencil recounting her day including
whether or not she has ‘pooed’ (yes that is correct. Her bodily functions have
become a hot topic under the hot Tuscan sun as the time difference and changes
in water and food consumption have flipped her up internally.) I’m no stranger
to that so there’s been a lot of re-assuring, coaching and feeding of prunes
and fibre along the way.
Holidays are
different with a caravan of 11. Spontaneous trips to cafes to sip cappuccino
and people watch are akin to hell freezing over as are 5 a.m. hikes up to some
hilltop to watch the sunrise. Both
things for some uncanny reason I thought I’d be able to do. I say uncanny; you
say ignorant. Fine. I admit it. Mea Culpa. Mea Culpa. It might not be exactly as I imagined it but
there have been a lot of pleasant surprises on the way.
Who thought I’d
be on a gelato mission with 4 kids to rank Venetian gelato over Tuscan gelato?
Or do a walking tour of Siena through the eyes of a babe? Siena was
fascinating. I would go back. Would I say the same thing if it were a 3 hour
walking tour with just a bunch of boring adults all pretending to know cute
tidbits of the Paleo horse race or the 17 competing contrade’s? Probably not.
There have been
some magical moments so far. Driving around in Tuscany is a sight for sore
eyes. Rolling mountains in varied shades
of green. Vineyards carefully drawn out on some plots overlooking olive groves
that go on for miles. In the distance,
umbrella pine trees sway gently. Strong, sturdy, Cyprus trees flag the
landscape reminding you of what Van Gogh may have been inspired by while
painting Starry Night.
It is night now.
Kids are all asleep. Another thing about writing nowadays…I have to do it in
snippets. The sky is a blue-black freckled by tiny white sparkling specks. They surround me and glitter as far as the
eyes can see. Above me. in front of me.
Behind me. The beauty is endless. I hear
crickets and other little insects in the darkness and the silhouette of the
beautiful green Cyprus trees are now a black façade jutting into the night sky.
I let out a sigh
and my eyes start to water. I wonder why we spend so many years of our lives
shielding ourselves from nature through brick homes and city streets and
metallic cars. Then we barricade ourselves in concrete buildings with windows
that don’t open and eat food in boxes and drink chemicals with artificial
sweeteners. Then when we realize we are suffocating
or drowning, we buy a ticket and fly away.
We seek out remote, old places with trees, and water and stars. We visit farms and make food with the crops
that are grown.
We seek out
nature don’t we? We yearn to go back to the source from where we came. Because that is where we can breathe again.
