This isn’t the best shot I took while in Tuscany. It’s not even one of the nicest hillsides. But for some reason, I’m drawn to it.
Tuscany was everything I thought it’d be and nothing at the same time. The air was crisp and clean and quiet. The mornings were serene and solitary and swept with the most lovely light I’d ever seen. The people were charming, happy and seemingly cherishing every moment they had together and with us.
Then there was our group. There was trouble sleeping. There was rushing. There was refusing. There was an hour of car sickness I’ll never forget. It seemed to me as though the four of us were totally present, yet we were also totally still wrapped up in our regular lifestyles we left back home. It was an interesting juxtaposition to be a part of and observe.
So this shot was taken out the car window as we left Siena, a lovely little medieval city which, in my opinion, we spent far too little time. I snapped off several frames as we skirted back to our bed and breakfast 50km down the road. I dragged the shutter. I didn’t look through the viewfinder. I let my fingers do what they wanted as the hillsides and cypress trees slid by. So when I saw this frame, relatively sharp, decently composed and slashed with a ray of hopeful light, I stopped. Thunk. And thanked the Creator for creating such beauty in land, in mentality and in the ability to articulate and appreciate the differences between them all.
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