by Julia Roberts, Greenheart Travel Language Exchange Homestay Participant in Italy
So I found myself at the top of the world yesterday, lost in fields of yellow. Nearly fell down the hill when I realized there were figs on the trees; nearly fell again, in a more tragic manner, when I realized they weren’t ripe (tasted to make sure, flung the unripe fig carcass with appropriate drama). Also to my dismay, I was writing feverishly in my head as it all whirled around me, the wind and the empty meadow and the blossoms, so I told myself to shut up and forgot all the pretty words that were bludgeoning me and just looked, breathed. Blew the last of my camera battery on photos of yellow fields and my stupid face before I got to the fig orchard and the dark green slant of San Luca’s hill and the dusty sunlight over it all. Thus camera-less and thoughtless, was overcome with joy, sweat, clear air, and sunburn, and felt a smug pleasure that I didn’t have to worry about documenting it anymore.