My Favorite Place

I wanted to share with you Villa Teto. Also below is a paper that one of our daughters wrote for a class project. The beautiful part of this, the description that she writes about, Susan and I have never spoken about. We love the fact that our daughters "get" our love of Italy.

My Favorite Place

Italy is my wonderful, harmonious retreat. We travel to our countryside home several times a year and it's like mulitple Christmases for me. I love the feeling of solitude it has that is so different from Minneapolis. The sensation of all the unusual smells drifting up to my mind is one of a kind. The sound of quiet country soothes my city adapted ears. It's like being in a dreamland. Italy is my grassy heaven.

The sound of our funny looking Italian car moving across gravel tells me we are close. Close to my paradise, my heaven, my home. I roll down my window and take in teh wonderful perfume of rosemary and olives. The thousands of crooked, old olive trees look more like old men in the dark shadow cast across the land. My body shifts forward as we rumble down the slanting driveway. The front light is like a beacon guiding us back. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as the car slows to a stop. I grab the door handle and jolt out of the car as fast as I can. I taste a faint hint of salt in the wind blowing from teh west, carrying the sea to our doorstep. A hedge obsures my view of the neighboring vineyard, but i know its there by the smell of the sweet grapes. The gleam of the stars reflects off the pool. A wind comes again and teh strong smell of chlorine gusts up my nose. Coughing, I turn to the right and see a sight to beautiful for words. Hills roll on and on for miles. Flowers and trees of all kinds flourish across them and bring sweet, delicious aromas across the valley. Keys jingle as the door creaks open. A call comes to my ears for me to get inside. I difficultly pull myself away and walk to my bed.

The next morning the daylight brings a different scene. Birds I don't recognize sing tunes of beautiful sound. Wind blows across the hills and the miraculous, deep green cypress trees flutter in the breeze. I hear the splashes of water as my sister jumps in the pool. The water gleams like a crystal in the sun. I turn around and see a great square of orange. Our house shines like a second sun in the bright light. A buzz comes near me; I look around and see a huge wasp. It is the biggest I have ever seen. I swat it away not wanting to be stung. A movement on the wall of our house distracts me. I walk slowly over and hear a scuttle of little feet. A lizard moves slickly along the wall. It had brilliant stripes of orange and beady black eyes. I reach for it and feel a jolt in my stomach as i pull off its tail. The lizard seems not to notice and scurries off to find shelter from the giant that is me. I throw the tail in the grass. Sweat drips down my face in the scorching heat. I taste lliquid salt on my lips. I look up. Not one cloud is visible in teh pale blue sky. I walk across the gravel driveway to an old, wooden fence. I climb over it and fell the rough wood scratch my hand. The intense smell of ripe olives overwhelms me. I am encircled by thousands of trees. It's like a huge fairy forest. I pick a fig from the only different tree in the meadow. Sweet mush meets my mouth and my taste buds are in heaven. I walk on while finishing it. The knots in the ground make me stumble. I sit and feel the moist, mossy ground. If only I could stay there forever. Buy my moment of bliss finishes all too quickly. My mom calls me for lunch. Not the call, but the smeall of pasta draws me towards the house. As I walk, I truly fell content and really understand why I love Italy so much.

Ellen Kuhlman