22/04/2021
When I close my eyes, I can almost feel the salty air against my skin, the pounding of my heart after running up the steep stone steps, the undeniable joy at being surrounded by such wonder.
I can hear the laughter of my friends and the bubbly chatter of the photographers lined up along the perch beneath us, a low stone wall the only thing between them and a steep drop below.
Around me, everyone scrambles to take the best photo - phones, iPads, DSLRs with lenses longer than my arm. I let my camera drop to my side, perched on two fingers, an extension of my hand, and take a deep breath.
The sea salt air fills my lungs and brings with it a soft, overwhelming peace. A reminder of how simple it is to find magic in this world. In a period so heavy with uncertainty, I want to remember this lightness forever.
I savour the way the sun bounces through the clouds and off the colourful village below. I feel immense joy overhearing the three women who so willingly tagged along with me for this crazy trip as they declare
loudly, "I can't even with this!"
sarcastically, "Remind me why I live in Milan again?"
reverently, "Wow. This is so, so beautiful."
I lap up the sound of the turbulent Mediterranean below.
Without realising, a smile spreads itself across my face and laughter breaks forth. How is this is my life? It seems impossible.
My friends say, "andiamo!" and I realise I still haven't taken a photo - that all-important reminder. "Arrivo!"
I pull the camera to my eye, check the settings, and line up the horizon. I hold my breath as I check each corner of the image, not daring to breathe out again until the shutter fires.
I slide the lens cap on to see one friend still waiting. "Got it?" "Hope so!" And we take off, ready to conquer the rest of those stone stairs.