Love amongst the Olive Groves

Chapter 2 - Name to be Decided

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS CHAPTER IS A ROUGH DRAFT AND NOT COMPLETED!

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS CHAPTER IS A ROUGH DRAFT AND NOT COMPLETED!

Glancing around, and dropping into the now uncovered comfortable turquoise linen armchairs praising myself for the hard work in waking the house up. It had taken me till 3 p.m. to finish the general cleaning. The garden was still in a state of despair but that could wait until a nice sunny day when I would be graced with motivation.

Grabbing my phone I pause my Spotify mixed and wipe the sweat which had begun to pile on my forehead. Still stunned I stared outside at the beautiful surroundings. Behind the wooden shutters lay a large garden that surrounded my cottage, simple yet picturesque. Its personality reflects the rustic beauty of the Beautiful Tuscan countryside beautifully. It's a quaint and unassuming space, characterized by its basic earthy simplicity, and the lack of extravagance, I gave a silent prayer to the gods that there may be a hidden gem like a fountain or small pool under the tons of foliage that covered the garden.

Well-kept olive trees dot the landscape, their knotted branches reaching towards the sky and below, whilst wildflowers sprout from the untamed grasses and other foliage. The garden lacked manicured pathways, with a faint outline of what may have been a wooden patio but had decreased to pieces with the weather. Clusters of herbs, fruits, and vegetables grew amiss in the weeds which made me excited about the wild meals I could make. A weathered homemade swing was perched below the shade of a gnarled oak tree. Hung on a thick elderly oak branch; offering a humble spot for relaxation, placed perfectly at the angle of being able to look out into the countryside beyond. Nearby lay a makeshift bird which was at an angle, presumably due to high winds and negligence. Perfect for a place for children to prance around and enjoy.

Even though the garden lacked any ornate features, reigning simplicity, I could envision what could be here once I got the garden gloves out. Honestly, I was happy to have a patch of grass living in New York. It made me overwhelmingly grateful.

Deciding to explore the surroundings and get some food from the nearby village so I wouldn't starve, I slipped my shoes on. Thinking to myself I should unpack all my suitcases to find suitable shoes for walking down the driveway, these converse shoes will be fine, I'll wash the dust off them later in the outdoor sink I had discovered whilst dumping the dust out into the nature.

As I start to walk out of the house, I get hit with that comforting gush of humidity of the outside heat and prosperity. The smells and sounds of the beautiful wildlife, lavender roots, and lively melodies from nearby Grosbeak birds singing in the union. As I continued my stroll down the winding drive, I started to see the distant, red-tiled roofs of the nearby village of Montefioralle. With every passing moment, I feel more connected to the land, the rhythms, and its secrets. As I approach the outskirts of the quaint village I sense the familiarity of the small grandmother cottages to my new home.

Following the rustic and weathered signs to "Centro del Villaggio" which even my American self could decipher. I start to see the small quaint shops, all having their personalities and characteristics, each having a different color and design, yet the same building design. It astonished me how the buildings