Hay Fever

Our last day at Casselacce and, fittingly, the weather is exceptionally beautiful--sunny but not too hot and with a lovely breeze.

I set out for my last marathon walk up the hill to be greeted immediately by the ferocious sheep dogs. This time one dog follows me so closely that I can feel his breath on the back of my legs, a rather unnerving experience but, as always, I keep on walking past them refusing to panic. The sheep now have been shorn of their woolly coats and if there was ever a creature that looked like it needed protection it is a very pink and naked sheep huddled closely to its equally pathetic brothers and sisters.

I've taken this walk so many times this month but today I am really struck by how the landscape has changed in the four weeks. The fields are no longer uniformly green but an undulating pattern of green and gold and brown. Huge wheels of hay are laying randomly in some of the fields, like giant game pieces waiting to be played in some mysterious game. There are so many different flowers in so many colors--tall purple thistles, red poppies with paper thin petals, bushes of wild roses, tiny pink and white and purple creepers, bright yellow buttercups and dandelions.

Two days ago, Jonathan and I hiked all the way to Castiglioncello del Trinoro so today I turn left towards La Foce. The climbing roses are dry and dusty on the walls of the graveyard but now there are pots of red and pink geraniums inside the walls. It's nice to know that someone is taking care of this place.

On the way back I pass a serious group of walkers, all dressed in walking shorts, hiking shoes, floppy hats and carrying walking sticks. "The tourists are coming! The tourists are coming!" I guess it is time to leave.