Yesterday we went to Savona, the closest beach to where we live in Turin. The journey started off a sunny one, but somewhere in the mountains, the clouds began to roll in and a cold breeze began to blow. Should have checked the weather, I suppose; however, overcast days make for the best photos, and the weather certainly didn't stop our kids from playing in the waves.
I loved this moment. I was standing on these huge rocks that have been crystallized over time to form these eccentric patterns that look like something out of a textile magazine. The kids were watching the fishermen and this African dude stood to our right, sporting his white Speedo and looking out into the ocean. I loved the solitude that stood in front of me in that moment, beckoning me to listen as the waves crashed into the rocks and the fishermen stood quietly and patiently awaiting a bite and a man, his smallness juxtaposed against the ocean's grand mystery, stood perhaps contemplating all he has left behind and a wide open future, unknown and mysterious, that lay in front of him.
I loved this moment. I was standing on these huge rocks that have been crystallized over time to form these eccentric patterns that look like something out of a textile magazine. The kids were watching the fishermen and this African dude stood to our right, sporting his white Speedo and looking out into the ocean. I loved the solitude that stood in front of me in that moment, beckoning me to listen as the waves crashed into the rocks and the fishermen stood quietly and patiently awaiting a bite and a man, his smallness juxtaposed against the ocean's grand mystery, stood perhaps contemplating all he has left behind and a wide open future, unknown and mysterious, that lay in front of him.
