Sunflowers, a.k.a. girasoli in Italian, are a sight to be seen in Tuscany. Honestly, I never knew sunflower seeds and oil could be so lucrative. During the summer months it seems as if there are more sunflower fields than hectares of vineyards.
My head turns left and right as we drive through Tuscany, which to me at moments can be a form of torture. How can I keep myself from asking Massy to pull over to take pictures of every patch. Every minute the light changes. With every angle there is a vision that challenges my breathing. I never had the opportunity to stop around 5:30pm when the light's quality changes and appears to be sprinkled through the horizon by angels. Usually at that time we were on route to do something with haste.
And I think about all the images I missed, all year along, hoping that next year I'll have another opportunity to walk through the fields, maybe spend hours looking at each different flower. I'm not sure if that's weird but it's honest. Massy finally doesn't feel harassed when I ask him to stop five times in one trip so I can take pictures of the girasoli.