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I shot him an Eat shit and die look, then tossed an “Asshole” over my shoulder for good measure as I walked out of the room.
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I was still pissed when we walked out of the cabin to go into town –
But that quickly passed as I looked around in wonder at our surroundings.
I hadn’t been able to see much when we drove up last night in the dark.
But now… in the morning sunlight… it was a whole different world.
The forest was absolutely beautiful. Tall pines and a few leafy trees soared around us on all sides, and dappled sunlight filtered down through the limbs.
The air was filled with a scent I can only describe as green. There was the tangy scent of pine needles and an underlying sweetness of leaves mixed with the earthy smell of wood.
The ground was carpeted with pine needles, ferns, and tiny saplings struggling to grow in the shade of the giants around them.
My skin prickled with goosebumps in the cool air – but then grew warm when I walked through patches of sunlight.
And the sounds!
Birds – so many birds chirping and singing. There were birds in Venice, but they were mostly pigeons that flocked on the public squares and seagulls from the Adriatic. Sure, there were other types of birds, but it was rare to see them outside of a park – and even rarer to hear them.
But this – this was like a symphony.
Underneath the birdsong was the sound of the wind blowing through the treetops – a gentle swish of leaves, like a quieter version of waves on the shore.
I had never experienced any of this.
I’d only seen the woods in movies and TV shows –
And none of them could do justice to the full range of sights and sounds all around me.
Even the house – which had looked run-down and decrepit in the car’s headlights last night – took on a new appearance. There was a beauty to the weathered wood and the stones that made up the chimney.
Venice is full of old things. I mean, I lived in a palace that was 700 years old. But all the old things in Venice were stately and noble and imposing… and kind of boring. Like museums.
But that little cabin looked like it belonged here… like it could have grown up from the forest floor, a part of the landscape of trees.
I just stood there, wide-eyed, and took it all in.
Massimo paused by the door of the car and watched me, perplexed. “You okay?”
“…I can see why you got this place…” I murmured.
He smiled – and for a moment, it felt like there was a truce between us.
“Just wait until you see the drive into town,” he said as we got in the car.
* * *
He wasn’t kidding.
As we left the woods and approached the town of Padola, things got truly spectacular.
There was the cute little alpine village with small houses and one lone church steeple.
It was surrounded by acres and acres of grassy green fields –
