7:20am. Sunrise. Sicily.
Through our villa window,
Hazy morning thoughts drift over uneven cobblestones, Passed white linen pegged to makeshift washing lines, Bergamot citrus groves in the distance.
Out in the winding streets,
A curiously unfamiliar outlook,
An expectant appetite,
And nothing but nothing but time.
Here comes my daydream, Here comes Sunday.
We are pupils of the daydream. Those who yield to curiosity.
We are fortuitous journeymen. The makers of stories
through the richness in the people we meet and the places we explore. To us detail is infectious, a way to see, a practice on how to be.
It's a state of mind.
A SUNDAY, SOMEWHERE STATE OF MIND