As night turns into day.
So there I was, flying back down the hill to Porto San Giorgio where I had left less than 48hours ago. This time alone, very much a snail again and bound for Florence. The towns on distant hills, beacons in the darkness leading the way. It was sad to say goodbye to Sophie and everyone else for that matter, it was a wonderful experience and hopefully not the last on my trip.
As the world was waking up around me; I was swaying, rattling, rolling along in what felt like a coach driven by a roller-coaster. I too, started to wake up. The deep dark bottom-of-the-ocean blue paper clouds started to tear and let through the first glimpses of the day. Crimson sat waiting on the horizon reaching up to smear satsuma but not touching the eager mix of blue and yellow looking out like a pair of eyes.
Later a toddler had been let loose and started tearing at the clouds. All sorts of things started peeping through the gaps, the sun, vapour trails, the clouds turned into a dry grey and the light much softer. The bus filled with teenagers on their way to school. Some on seats, some standing in the aisle. The towns no longer remained in the shadow but made the shadows as the sun bounced down on them. The greens and browns of the fields glowed like a muddy dancefloor.
By eight o’clock the sun was bouncing off everything sending light in all directions. Night’s reign is over and the majesty of the day stared me in the face.
Then I realised this happens every day and if I’d been at home. I probably would have thought, ‘it’s a bit cold today’.