Sometimes, Just Looking

I’ve taken countless shots of views in virtually every place I’ve visited. Where I live in Tuscany, and where I’m writing from now, there’s no hilltop from which I haven’t snapped off a photo.

I live in the valley and generally, I’m gazing up at hills and our mountain, Pratomagno — it means the green meadow — part of the Tuscan Apennines that stretches for hundreds of kilometers across the peninsula before tapering off in Southern Reggio Calabria. I love the views from down here, too, right now of Pratomagno’s snow-dusted crest that’ll soon melt away with warmer weather. And from the other side of my home, the hills that begin to ascend toward Chianti and its vineyards.

So many memorable moments watching from above. The day before Italy went into its first hard lockdown in March 2020, we knew we’d be stuck inside for a while. As a marker of what was to come, we headed for a walk close to the ruins of a medieval fortress with sweeping views of Chianti below. We climbed around massive stones that had broken loose from the structure’s thick walls and wondered who’d stood guard there once centuries before the hills were covered with vineyards. We knew what was coming the day after, us, and another couple who lived a few valleys away. We pretended we were a rock band in a photo session for our album cover, calling ourselves The Sentinels. In anticipation of that feeling of the complete unknown of what lockdown would feel like and that out in the middle of nature offered sanctuary,“Run for the Hills” became our fictitious album’s title. For that moment, the views, all the make-believe and hi jinx with good friends, lightened the spirit.

Two of my favorite panoramas that I’ve photographed over time, in every season, are located on opposite sides of my valley, the Valdarno, named so because of the Arno that cuts through it toward Florence. My go-to spot for walks on the Chianti side runs through chestnut groves, fruit trees with views of our valley and beyond our mountain Pratomagno. The pathway ends at a small village, partly an farmhouse where a couple from Northern Italy rent out apartments and keep a pair of friendly, beautifully groomed horses who come to greet us when they’re out of their stables. The views look toward a medieval watchtower called Galatrona where a famed sorcerer called Nepo (like in other regions, white magic was widespread in Tuscany) mixed potions for the de’ Medici clan. I adore gazing at it and thinking how it’s managed to stand so stalwart for so long, How much of history it’s seen, how many feet have climbed its narrow steps leading up to its own breathtaking views of the valley.

My second favorite view appears along another favorite walk at higher elevations below Pratomagno's peaks. I love that I can see clear across the valley to the hills where I seek out the Galatrona watchtower. During clear weather, this view stretches even further to the Valdichiana and beyond, to the imposing Monte Amiata, an extinct volcano located on the Grosseto province. I love this walk for the variety of flora, and for how the road twists and turns as it slopes downwards, working your muscles as you move back up the hill. As soon as I arrive, I squint to see I I can make out Monte Amiata's two main peaks that gently taper off and disappear. (see my previous post on Mt. Amiata for a sunset view). Its not just for this particular view though. It sometimes happens that we run into someone we know on our walk and the walk itself and you encounter along it becomes a topic of conversation. For instance, I love that you'll hear the bleating of goats in a clearing where we park our car, the domain of a young couple who raise goats for cheese that we can buy at our local farmer's market.  I can come here through the seasons and forage tree branches and twigs, pine cones and acorns, even wildflowers, that I arrange in my home for the holidays, or just because.  A few times, we met an older woman who was gathering bunches of heath, erica scoparia, with which she made brooms.  And I love that feeling of after a long walk down the winding road, a feeling of satedness that calms the mind and soul.