musings in a storm

It’s Friday and there is a storm upon us.  It rains with convinction.

It was an interesting week with the boss out of commission.  Angelo, who has worked here for ten years but has minimal interface with the animals, stepped up to the plate impressively in helping our team.  He experienced a grave tragedy half a year ago and has been a very aloof figure at Spannocchia during my stay here.  This week was a departure from his status quo, and he showed signs of chipperness as we worked well together.  He joked that the pigs, who are constantly showing extreme disregard for the electric fences, would join in our celebrate of primo di maggio (May Day).  We speak only in Italian and he shows no reservation in correcting me, a comfortable habit I appreciate.

The sky, a blank sheet of gray, is lit up intermittently by startling branches of light.

I can see how his perception of me has changed, in the same way my own self-perception has shifted in the last few years.  I know I come off as goofy, perhaps frivolous due to my sense of humor and flamboyant appearance.  The truth is that I care deeply about what I am doing here—indeed, I would like it to be my life’s work; and I believe I have come to be rather capable and intuitive in this work.  My hope is that my superior perceived my commitment this week and in doing so, was able to accept the other, more whimsical side of me.  I think we’re friends now.  Grazie zio Angelo.

Amongst steady rumble and menacing crack of thunder, the geranium on my windowsill drinks.  The lightening draws ominously closer.

This morning the ragazzi and I had a field trip to a winery not half an hour away from here.  Luckily we roamed their glorious property under a blue sky with occasional puffy clouds.  Colombaia is a biodynamic winery, they make “vino naturale”, adding nothing to the wine, not filtering it, and interfering in all processes absolutely minimally.  Unsurprisingly Helena and Dante, the two proprietors and wine-makers are fantastic people who love what they do and have all kinds of far-out but tried and true ideas about moons and stars and planets.  The wine was so delicious.

Purple strobe, deep roar, giddy laughs from around the fireplace below.

Sheridan and Eliza, two lovely gals (and fellow interns) from the southern united states who I have grown quite close to (the other night it was very cold and we lay like cozy sardines, three in a cot, giggling about boys late into the night) are going to stay in the area after Spannocchia and work at Colombaia.  On June 30^th, the very day I finish with Riccio, they will be done with their time at the biodynamic winery and my great hope is that we will make our way south together to visit the Amalfi coast. 

Summer feels far off at this moment, as I remain comfortably trapped inside while the gods work out whatever dispute led to this great spectacle.  I am thrilled to be staying in this country for quite a bit longer.