Nostalgically Rediscovering Village Life
A Microcosm of sorrows, vibrant hopes and a balanced life that unravels at much slower pace
Author’s Note: A emotional reflection inspired by a late night conversation with my “Zia Clara”, that took place during a recent trip to my land of origin Calabria, the region of the Italian peninsula which often refer to as the “tip of the boot”.
I reckon, that at least four years must have passed since I last came home, my land of origin. Four years: they felt like a small eternity for time seemed to have slowed down, almost stopped, clutched by an uncontrollable force of nature. That nasty beast, life annulling pandemic of COVID-19 which was unleashed upon humanity, broke my more regular travel routine, and managed to severely interrupt what I pleasantly use to experience as a human recharging cycle.
Luckily, now I am back in the place where I spent my most formative years. Yes, the place where this immigrant son of Italy, now living in the US for more than a quarter century, used to visit once or twice a year, but often impulsively. And today I am back for a short two weeks with a strange, bittersweet heart, a maturing mind and an over reserve of love for a world left behind.
