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Morning, Panzano
My wife, Bernie, and I were staying in a delightful bed and
breakfast
just outside tiny Panzano,
deep in the hills of Tuscany.
She was still sleeping that first morning
as I slung my camera over my
shoulder
and went out to explore the countryside.
I drove our rental car several miles down the narrow road,
first photographing the exterior
of a church (pretty ordinary),
then attempting a composition of a small grove of trees (it
didn’t work),
and after a couple more disappointments,
decided it wasn’t my morning to be a photographer.
I retraced my route and pulled into a parking place
across the street from our
place, La Villa Rosa.
As I stepped from the car, this is what I saw right in front
of me,
right in front of the veranda
where Bernie sat smiling, taking it all in.
A gracefully shifting fog.
Softly glowing sunlight.
An eden of trees and weeds and fields.
I released the shutter a few times,
then climbed the stairs to
our room with the brown tile floor,
ever so happy to sit with her and watch the fog quietly slip
away, noticed.
.
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