Italy

Morning:
I stand on the edge of the hill by the castello, and gaze at the view, whilst the sun's heat beats down upon me and touches my skin with skilled, golden fingers.
Here the air is scented with sweet grasses and flowers. The sea is not far away, and every now and then I am sure I can smell the salt, and I lick my lips in the hope of capturing some of that goodness.

I am in the land of my father, and my soul is delighted, soaring up to the skies and singing with untamed joy like a bird set free from a cage.
Wild dogs pass me by and stare at me like I am something to revere. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds- all at once so familiar and unfamiliar. I hear families laughing from the dark rooms of the little houses nearby, where they seek shade from the dazzling sunshine. Scooters buzz around somewhere far below me like giant bees. A dog barks and a man's voice commands silence. Crickets call to one another from within the grasses. When I look up, I see nothing but blue. It is inviolate. I breathe in as though it is my last breath.

Afternoon:
I have slept like a wild thing upon the ground and when I awake I can tell it is after one in the afternoon, if not later.
I stretch and laugh. I observe my skin is now bronzed a deeper shade than before.
I look to the castle behind me and thank it for it's acceptance of me. Then I pick myself up and begin the walk home.
It is a path that meanders this way and that. All the while the glorious panorama stretches around me and pulls at my heart.

Evening:
The sun sets, dripping reds and golds into the sky. The air is still warm and my feet are bare; I wriggle my toes and sip my beer.
Presently, I shall walk into the little village and sit at one of the tables outside and watch the old men play cards. Time will seem irrelevant.
They will banter to one another in words I only partly understand.
The young will converse with the old, and each in their own way, will make room for the others.
In the distance a baby mewls. I hear the clattering of dishes. The lights of Agropli twinkle. It seems that they wink at me. I think of the port, and the brilliant white boats.
Perhaps tomorrow I will hitch a ride to the town and then walk to the sea.
Sometimes there are horses you can hire to ride.
They stand in the shade of the cliffs and watch humanity pass by with noble eyes.
I imagine myself riding along the beach, calling out as my horse gains speed, encouraging it, daring it to go faster.
I stand up just as the sun disappears over the horizon, the red-bruised sky shifting into a star filled night.