I'm touched and honored
My new pal Scintilla at Bell'Avventura wrote about the strega in her Positano neighborhood today. Her post is a series of stories about a curious old woman who steals vegetables from the neighborhood gardens. Missing melanzane aside, you can add the strega to a very long list of reasons I need to go back to Positano.
Over the path of a thousand words Scintilla inspires an area in which fable and reminiscence be a part of hands and paintings an impossible magic. Her post took me returned to a place in which eggplant-stealing witches and tenth century icons coexist in relative peace. A place wherein the metropolis canine takes a sleep on the identical seaside Saracen invaders stormed 1000 years ago. For ten minutes I turned into status below the Mediterranean solar and breathing in a rosemary and lemon scented breeze. Just when I idea it couldn't get any better, I got here to her very last paragraph and study that she'd devoted those tales to me. My day is now ideal. Thank you! Read "Stregata" right here.