The Land Where I Live

The land where I live is alive. It is fertile. It’s generous and ancient. I can hear it speak to me through the caress of a warm wind; “settle down, my friend. There is no rush.” Time is different for the non-human world, and living on this type of fertile land has grounded me. I suffer thinking about how carelessly we ravage through its resources. How selfishly we extract, destroy, and destabilize the natural world we depend on. I’ve always wondered, where are we running to? Where are we going that is more important than where we are right now? Do we really need more technology? I believe we need to focus less on development and more on regenerative states of living that will not ultimately kill us.

Perhaps living in such a beautiful natural landscape lends towards this type of protective thinking. I don’t want to lose this type of natural abundance. There are days when I wonder, “Imagine if we could still drink the water, clean from the local river?” I’ve done it before in Belize, out in the middle of the jungle, far away from human developments. . . And I am grateful that my children have had that experience as well here in the mountains of Tuscany with their nonno. “Mamma, the water was so clean we drank it straight from the river.” These relationships with nature are and have always been essential to me.

The land where I live is inviting. There are many walking paths and hikes through nature. One ancient epic hike that is not as famous but similar to the Camino de Santiago in Spain, is the Via Francigena, a famous pilgrimage walk from Canterbury to Rome that attracts international travelers all year round. This path is easily accessible from where I live. Massi and I walk it often. In fact, when we host our annual Food and Wine Retreat in the Spring, I always take whoever is up for it Sunday morning, on a hike through the cypress-lined dirt streets, horizoned with rolling hills of agricultural fields, and often wild animals.