Elysian; beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.
Giuseppe took us high into the mountains, promising ‘spettacolare’ views and he wasn’t wrong! I was worried the poor donkeys would collapse under the weight of the supplies. Giuseppe said ‘they are use to it, signora.’
It was the most perfect spot to paint the mountains. There was a lake below that was so clear and reflective. We spent all day there, it was like being in God’s Eden.
My painting did not do the landscape justice but I’m proud of it all the same. I have sent it you in the late post.
Rusty had no idea what was there but he planned to find out. Following want once had been a dirt track through the almost barren landscape towards the rising hills, he wished he’d brought his jeep. Inside, the Harley Davidson underneath him grumbled over the rocky road.
As soon as he made it over the hill, Rusty stopped and cut the engine. He looked out and saw a ramshackle of wooden houses below; an abandoned mining village. He had mixed feelings over it but for now it didn’t matter. He now owned the land and there was plenty of time.
He turned the corner and slowed the boat down to behold the view that was before him. Pine trees lined the way to a small patch of grassy land and raising proudly above was a dark grey mountain half shrouded by low hanging clouds. He brought his oar into the boat and rested for a few moments. The wide river splashed gently around his small wooden vessel and singing birds echoed each other in the trees. He noted the burning colour of the sky and decided that he had finally reached a place that had only been touched by God.