i took this photo yesterday while i walked from bosc di sot over to the castello di spessa. this passeggiata takes me through dense forests, muddy vineyards, rocky trails and high-grassed fields. i see animal tracks in the mud, winter fruits ripening on their trees, the tail-end of what led to a wine maker’s dream vintage, 1,000 shades of red.
Cassanova once lived in this castle. or, rather, he “kept” a room here. ladies from all corners of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire would come to visit him.
the air this november is warm, dense with the pungent hint of fermenting grapes. Bon Iver is the perfect accompaniment for such a constitutional, and I find myself in…
Kef (n): a state of drowsy contentment
there was a house eaten alive by it’s own garden. how many years it has lain dormant, at the mercy of the ravenous ivy, rose bushes and rosemary i cannot say. tanti, ormai. the roof was caved in, the back door wide open. bees live in the hollow of the oak tree growing through the kitchen wall.
i walked a long driveway lined with persimmon trees. thousands of cachi, firey orbs, hung from the spidery black branches. oh, the marmalade we could make! once their skin becomes translucent and they feel like water balloons it’s time to feast. the pulp is sweet, the consistency of jello, slippy and slidey on the tongue.
i walked for close to three hours without seeing another human being. the loneliness of these autumn walks is what keeps me company. if the weather is right, i’ll go out again tomorrow.