sometimes visitors to the villa are surprised by the constant and obvious sounds of traffic on autostrada A15, the motorway that is close by.
sometimes surprised and actually bothered, since they had this romantic “under the tuscan sun” image of my italian villa – set apart from any distractions, a quiet oasis.
for six years, i lived that way in washington state, the dream of many. on a beautifully secluded five acres on hood canal, deep in the forest. in the very hushed forest.
from my perspective, however, the silence felt deafening. as if it was literally pressing in on me, crushing my very soul.
so for me (though many may not agree), this bustling autostrada is vital. it’s comfort and freedom and security all wrapped up into one. it’s a guarantee that i’m witnessing the advancement of industry, the workings of innovation, the tempo of humanity.
the heartbeat of civilization.
it’s the reassurance that, despite any personal setback or tragedy, the world really does always move on.
this was never so clear as during the pandemic lockdown, when eric and i would sit on our terrace, listening to the eerie and unwelcome silence, waiting for normalcy to return. here is a passage i wrote during that time:
𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴
𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘺
𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘥𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥
𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘺
𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦
𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦
𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘹 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴
𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘵
𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵
but eventually the lockdown(s) ended and things got back to the way they were. and now – though new windows in the bedrooms do a good job of muffling the sound for guests – i know that beyond those italian shutters, the beat goes on.
