A chorus of birdsong plays as I sit in the weak sunshine of post-Tuscan dawn, its golden light illuminating a slender band of ethereal cloud, hovering in the valley below.
Cuckoos, pigeons, finches and others too numerous or unusual to even fathom, sound off in a soothing, symphonic display of avian excellence. A bark breaks through this gentle arrangement, a fox wrapping up its nocturnal wanderings perhaps, and tossing out one last heckle before returning to the den.
Yesterday’s carpet of wildflowers is still largely absent, the sun's rays not yet high enough to encourage an opening. The petals cling stubbornly together, their overnight tantric position strictly maintained, for now at least. But as the earth and air are inevitably warmed, soon the grass will be embroidered with tiny jewels of pink, yellow, white and cornflower blue.
Inky puddles of shadow swirl at the base of every olive tree, slowly drying out and vanishing as the sun traces its graceful arc across the pale blue sky. Vibrant trailing rosemary adorns the dry stone walls like lilac floral graffiti; the fragrance floats invisibly in the air, talking squadrons of mason bees through their final approach to this cornucopia of pollen.
A silent shape flits between my feet, only to reveal itself a second later as Beignet, one of several resident cats. One quick orbit of my chair, and seemingly I’ve passed first muster. He leaps into my lap, lies down, and transforms himself into a purring, V8 feline motor as I scratch between his ears. For a few minutes we sit together, comfortable with our temporary guardianship agreement—although who is guarding who remains unclear. It is enough to have each other's company and admire this transcendent, Tuscan morning.
A silent shape flits between my feet, only to reveal itself a second later as Beignet, one of several resident cats. One quick orbit of my chair, and seemingly I’ve passed first muster. He leaps into my lap, lies down, and transforms himself into a purring, V8 feline motor as I scratch between his ears. For a few minutes we sit together, comfortable with our temporary guardianship agreement—although who is guarding who remains unclear. It is enough to have each other's company and admire this transcendent, Tuscan morning.
