It’s been just about two weeks now that we have settled in our new home. And I have loved every minute of it. We live in the northern tip of Como, in a small town. It’s tiny, but full of life—especially in the Summer, when everyone flocks to the lakefront for watersports.
In the mornings, I jog by the edge of the lake, taking in the quietness, and being awed by the surrounding beauty. Dimensions of deep blue paint surreal mountain peaks in the background, then hues of a violet sky dips back into rippled water.
There are no grocery stores in our town, but every day we buy fresh bread from the bakery, and since we live a couple steps away from the center piazza, we don’t have far to walk. Just across our street are the lake bars, restaurants, pizzerias, and cafes. Cappuccino for mom in the afternoons; gelato for the boy, every day.
During the week that we changed locations, I became quite sick with a few infections, the worst one being in my eyes. I have had to take out my contact lenses for now, a bit blind as I go about my days. But somehow, falling back on this one sense—sight—makes me appreciate everything else even more.
I’ve also spent the last couple of weeks disconnected from my usual world of Internet, social networks and status updates. I have been engaged more in taking long walks, playing with my son in the large playgrounds, and having long, real conversations with new friends over Italian wine.
And I have been finding that it’s great to disconnect—and truly connect with what is at your fingertips—the people who cross your path every day, learning of life that goes around you. As I type this, the church bells toll, kids play in the arched alleyways of our neighborhood.
I can hear life thriving around me. There is the endless chirp of birds, and ducks in the harbor, the wind blowing kites and windsurfers across the lake…the swans with their babies sailing gracefully across the flat waters, enjoying the afternoon sun.
It’s also an amazing place to raise a child. While most of my conversation with the locals consists of a lot of sign language, in Italy, children melt hearts and open doors everywhere.
I find myself enjoying the sweet little pleasures of simple life on the lake, being continually aware that destiny is taking me to amazing places, and all I can do is close my eyes, and be grateful.