Driving along the twisty roads of southern Italy, we searched for antique shops, secondhand stores, and anything that we could find to renovate the apartment. The challenge was not to be distracted by the many beautiful abandoned century-old houses with their faded patina, stone steps, and worn shutters that echoed life from the hilltop villages high above the patchwork fields, olive orchards, and sheep with their wooly coats, and the sound of church bells that echoed through the valley.
Along the way, we met with people that helped us find what we were looking for. Language without words. One thing would lead to another down a different road into another shop, discover unfamiliar avenues, a serendipity journey with gold mines of simplicity that boasted our imagination, providing us with new routes to concoct our plan of action.
How many times did I want to stop to take a photo though I knew if I did, I would have a camera full and nothing with to renovate the apartment?
The muted hues of the hillside villages were captivating though I knew with the lack of a good camera, I could not possibly capture what I could see with my heart.
Then along the roadside this bright orange building with red trim, a hint of a yellow curtain, and a heavy-laden orange tree against a blue sky, seem to come out of nowhere, I had to stop and take a photo, mainly because it was surreal.
Leave a Reply