We watched the sun set, gloriously, over the western hills. A ball of red that spread streaks and smears of color as it dropped away. The light goes very soft. Our three ladies are here to prepare dinner and see we’re well taken care of. There’s bread and cheese and thin slices of cold-cut meat. I could’ve made a meal of that alone. But there are wonderful scents wafting through the big kitchen.
They’ve picked tomatoes fresh from the vine, served them in big chunks with basil just as fresh.
We’re eating on the patio at the big wood table with the hills all around.
Fresh pasta, cooked to perfection set off with a lovely Chianti. Night lowers–the moon rose on one side of the sky as the sun set on the other and all the hills go into silhouettes.
Now there’s strips of steak–sauted, I think, in oil and balsamic, with thin slices of grilled eggplant, roasted peppers. It’s gorgeous, but I can’t do justice to it after all the rest. We’ll have marvelous left-overs. To finish it off, a fruit parfait, a kind of almost melted ice cream, but richer, with chunks of fresh fruit.
I don’t think you can get more relaxed. If there’s tension left after a few hours in Tuscany with beautiful food, wine, and scenery, you need serious help!
A good night’s sleep in our pretty room, and I wake up to that vivid sunshine over hills of green and gold. Different from my deep summer green woods at home, or the drenched shining green of the Irish hills I love. This is intense and stunningly baked. From my window here, I see olive and cypress trees, and the vineyard just across the little dirt road. Then the rise of hills, the shadows of mountains.
There’s a cluster of brown stone buildings topping a high forested rise. Asia said it was an abandoned village, and someone bought it. He built a hotel and cafe. It must have awesome views.
From this window, I can see about a half a dozen houses scattered, and all look as if they might have grown there. From the other window, I see the front garden, and one house on a distant hill.
It’s a very fine place to be after a bustling week in Florence.
I may do my yoga outside in the sun.
PS. Here are some of BW’s photos from the Pitti Palace