“When you get to the end of all the light you know and it’s time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly.” ― Edward Teller
From swaying palm trees casting endless shadows on the surf, to hill towns illuminated with a celestial glow, the Tuscan light is unique in the world. Last weekend, we wound our way up the coast to the salty village of Manarola in the Cinque Terra to see the world’s largest lighted nativity. As we wandered through the dusty vineyards at sunset, we were humbled once again by the flaming Tuscan sun. It made me appreciate that of all the light displays this season, there are none that subjugate mother nature.
The light in Tuscany fascinates me because . . .
- It is saturating but never blinding
- It is radiant without being glaring
- It peeks through violent storms with a penetrating strength
- It gives every surface it touches a freshness, like a blanket of snow, but warmer
- It is a constant and yet always a marvel
- It gets clearer as the shadows hem the prismatic show
- It is somehow invigorating as it fades
- It leaves me longing for its favor as it hovers in the darkness
Today, you can be deliberate in your appreciation of light because you know that it guides you down paths you would never have ventured in the dark. . .
