Dreams of Tuscany

As I sit here waiting for spring to truly settle in (spring is here, but extremely temperamental this year), I have to admit that all truly looks more golden under the Tuscan sun...even the December Tuscan sun.

As much of Italy seems to move at a frenetic pace, once arriving in Tuscany, movement almost ceases entirely. Existence begins. Life flows seamlessly and effortlessly. It is a place to forget and just be.

Above is the view I had from my hotel room, a fifteenth century well preserved monastery. Inside frescoes enrich the ceiling and the stone steps are uneven and worn, I presume from many a year of monks passing through. At five every evening the bell in the neighbouring chapel would clang wildly as if life itself depended on it, sending the doves roosting in the bell tower off on a mad frenzy over the village. But even in the midst of this predictable sudden chaos, there was an undeniable calmness and beauty. It is so easy to loose oneself here, melt into the surroundings and simply exist.