You are standing in the middle of a vast vineyard that covers the hillsides. The vines line the slopes in neat parallel emerald green lines before descending to the cold Adriatic sea.
The earth has been baked for weeks, and now it is time for grape season. The conditions are perfect for harvesting with the heat coming from both the ground and the sun. The lush grapes are heavy on the vines. A few bunches touch the earth.
You notice some wasps are burrowing into a single grape that has fallen onto the bare dirt.
You start walking in the direction of a village you see in the distance nestled in the elbow of the hillside. You pass a weathered wooden grape tray that hasn't been filled, a leather glove and some scissors that someone has forgotten.
You reach a stony downhill street. The shoulders of it are scattered with the last of the season's wildflowers. They seem to glow with an inner brilliance.
For a while, a bird flies in front of you, always careful to put a fair distance between wherever you are and where it perches.
The bird disappears behind the wall of a church overhung with vivid orange flowers. A fragrance of shrubs and herbaceous borders suddenly envelopes you. The bell of the chapel clangs.
You reach the outskirts of the town and begin walking through a maze of narrow pedestrian passageways. All the houses have faded green shutters and ancient tile roofs. As the afternoon light changes the colour of the house facades shift from apricot to gold, sienna and ochre.
The village air is stilled by the afternoon siesta.
You can smell garlic and cooking coming from one of the houses.
You keep walking down through the village and eventually end up at a small dock.
A couple of colourful fishing boats are moored in the harbour.
Short, hushed waves gently wash up against the rocky wall and then collapse.
You throw a pebble into the water. The water is so clear you can see the pebble float to the bottom. Then you imagine all the lobsters, sardines, oysters and other fish that have been hauled in from the sea here.
The sun dips behind the top of the hill. As it does, a flood of saffron turns the ocean to viridian and the golden green.
A large wicker chair is set back a little on the jetty wall next to some lobster pots and fishing nets. You walk over to it and sit down.
Soon people will be waking up from their siesta, but you feel like beginning yours.
〰️ Clara 〰️
I am bringing my favourite outside experiences and imaginings to create visualizations that encourage peace and relaxation.