Saturday, 7 January 2012

Yesterday I found myself inexplicably nostalgic for the swallows of Rionero. These swift elegant birds are found in great flocks there and suddenly I was thinking about them swooping and diving and soaring the way they do, looking like they’re just narrowly avoiding each other . I was right back there, in southeast Italy, sitting on the steps of the dig-house, in the warm morning sun, sipping my frothy cappuccino and munching a fresh out-of-the-oven chocolate-filled cornetto, mesmerized by the swallows before I started my day, and I was over-whelmed with this longing to go back.


S. E. Ingraham


jpenstroke said...

the brew of taste swirling in the air the way memory makes us present once again too our longings - lovely take on that union of then/now

Janet E said...

Awhh, that is a lovely memory and wistful wish. Bless you, Sharon.

S.E. Ingraham said...

thank you both ... it's lovely to post here ... it's like getting to relive the experience again and again