Piazza Bella - Aperitivo: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII
Piazza Bella - Antipasto: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X
Piazza Bella - Primi: Prologue | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI
I felt tired, but it was one of those promising mornings where the mist rising from nearby woodland and eager birdsong made me feel happy and energized. Clear blue skies and slowly moving shadows suggested a glorious sunrise would strike the valley an hour later than it bathed the hilltops.
Songbirds chattered, alighting on frozen tree branches to surveil the land or hopped around, pecking the frosty ground for scant rewards. It was good that a kind person hung fat balls from poles driven deep into the ground and broke up muesli bars on which the few winter residents could subsist.
I heard soft, beautiful singing in the depths of my weary mind, lifting my spirits, and my heart soared.
When Giovanni noticed me wandering through his perfect vines, his face burst into a massive smile, and he sprinted up a chalky incline from deep in the valley. He yelled excitedly in Italian, a few words I caught, but there was no mistaking his excitement or love for me.
When he closed in on me, I leaped into Giovanni’s arms, wrapping my legs around the man with whom I had fallen in love at lightning speed. He stumbled forward a few steps, swaying with my weight and momentum added awkwardly to his, but he held up firmly once his balance was regained while I kissed him.
“What? How, Carla? I don’t understand.”
“I came for you, sweet man.”