Storm coming in –
Rain through the shutters –
After the wind and thunder and lightning, the rain came from the mountains, cold and crisp. The children had been playing outside, happy in the wind and rain. But when the rain intensified they came in, and we watched it from the windows.
This picture above of the rain through the shutters — that is how my sight has been recently, a little obstructed. Still, things are getting better everyday.
In fact being (temporarily) half blind isn’t half bad. I’m getting rest. I am enjoying quiet, healing and contemplative moments in this beautiful place. I’ve made some new friends as a result of this injury.
However, there are some disadvantages. There is almost no way I can slap a mosquito (Zanzara in Italian) from the air now. My depth perception is a little off. It makes me bump into things a little more often too. I have a little double vision.
Also, when I look into the mirror, I can hardly see half of me. Half of me is has disappeared. Half of me is foggy, ethereal. The other half remains bright and clear.
Dark and dawn and dusk and shadow are a pleasure for me these days. A relief. Bright light still makes me cringe, and it makes my eye cry. I often wear sunglasses inside.
The children are adapting to life here. Gelato, spaghetti, Nutella. They run around the olive groves and I listen to them laughing outside my window. Sometimes I venture out with them, often shrouded and looking like The Invisible Man in a straw hat. And we pick figs together, or apples, or pears. Then I retreat to a shady spot to enjoy the fruits of this land.
Talk about slowing down. Even without being a (temporary) cyclops, things are just slower here. And simpler.
No microwave, no fast food, no air conditioner, no TV, no radio, no stereo. No shopping during siesta time. The whole village takes a collective nap. I do too. I can’t drive right now, so unless someone drives me, no going anywhere.
Just enjoying the here and now.
And eating apples from the tree.
