Orange Moons and Rainbows

There are times when I wish I had a better camera. Before I came to Italy I always had my camera with me, I used it for work, as it’s sometimes quicker to take a photo than write notes about what you see. Here in Italy, there’s always new surprises around each corner, so in theory I should have a camera with me constantly. I can’t tell you how many events I’ve been to, dinner parties I’ve attended and fiestas that would have benefitted from being recorded. Recently, we had a beautiful orange moon and I went inside to get my little Kodak, I got from E Bay a few years back. I tried to get a decent shot but sadly this was the best I could do.

100_7205C

The problem with getting a new camera is it’s an expense I need not have. Very rarely do any of the magazines I write for ask me for photos, so I can’t really justify it as a genuine business expense. I could buy a new camera for my own photo collection. I could use it for images for my blogs, but they’re really only just snaps: This hasn’t stopped some of them turning up on other people’s blogs, hence the copyright notice. While we are on the subject of copyright, I received a mail from someone anonymous who said they thought my copyright disclaimer on this blog was a bit harsh. I hardly think so, let me know if you think it is. The same notice is on my other blog, http://barrylillie.wordpress.com/ and no one has commented about it there.

This evening after the rain a rainbow appeared over the rabbit farm. I took another picture again wishing my camera could do justice to the view before me. I do like the sunshine here in Italy, but sometimes days of endless hot weather mean the view remains unchanged. Tonight there’s a low cloud blocking the view of the town of Archi, the mountain is swaddled in mist and although you can’t see it the air is full of that indescribable smell you get after rain. (How would you describe the smell?)100_7211c

Who knows what the view will be like tomorrow, maybe completely obliterated by fog, or impenetrable by heavy rain, possibly lit by a high bright sun. Either way better camera or not, it’s still my view and I’ll savour it at every opportunity.

It’s Just You and Me

I feel like crap. It’s 03.45 and I should be asleep. I’ve had a couple of nights of sleeplessness lately. It has nothing to do with weather or alcohol or even too much sleep the previous day, it’s just happened of its own accord. Usually I’ve lain awake looking at the blue light on the light switch; designed to show a somnolent sleepwalker where the switch is and eventually dropped off. Tonight however is different, I’m dog-tired. Normally I’d apologise for the cliché, but I’m too tired to care. I’m desperate to sleep but it evades me.

I get up and wander about in the kitchen, I open and close the fridge looking for something: What that something is I don’t know. I stand outside and look up at the stars, the sky is different here than back in the UK, there are sparkles in the darkness that I cannot name. It’s not like when I was in New Zealand, and every star in the hemisphere was new to me, occasionally I’ll see something I recognise, but tonight I see nothing.

The sounds of the night are all around me, the clacking of bugs in the grass is getting more constant as the summer progresses, back in April there was hardly a click in the dark, but with the warmth comes the volume. A late firefly flashes and I despair for him, the season has passed so his chance of finding a mate now has seriously diminished. There’s the almost silent sound of a bat as it circles Domenico’s ruin and something scurries across my bare foot. In the light cast from the kitchen door I see a scorpion on my foot, my first reaction is to shake my foot, but I’m too tired, so watch it as it crawls off me. “It’s just you and me,” i say as it waggles its pincers in the air and scuttles away for the safety of the dark spaces.

I return to the kitchen and spend a few minutes checking emails and deleting spam, there’s no new notifications on Facebook; why would there be, with the exception of a few people in Australia, all my FB friends will be tucked up in bed. Nocturnal envy is not a good thing. I try to read, but my eyes hurt and my brain cannot process the words, so there’s nothing for it but to write this blog entry. Obviously heavily edited once my faculties kick in again. Will writing help me to sleep?100_6468-crop

Not a chance, as the words spill from my fingers I start to think about a feature I need to complete, an idea for my novel pops up and some new article ideas bounce around between my ears. This writing during my insomniac moment is not a good idea, as now my brain is whirring; clicking like the bugs in the long grass, all I need is an old fashioned typewriter bell to ping every sixteen or so words. I put the laptop away and crawl back into bed where the OH makes those noises of contented slumber, Should I aim a dig to the ribs in one of those selfish, ‘if I’m awake you should be’ moments? I decide not to and lie looking at the blue light again, waiting.

06.06, and I can bear it no more so I climb out of bed and put the kettle on and open the front door, the pizza eating cat is already here waiting for the off chance some human will toss it a morsel. I give it the bones from last nights lamb chops and it noisily crunches at them as the kettle boils and the OH stumbles into the room saying, “I had such a good sleep last night.” Inside my head I’m screaming, “You did did you. Well guess what!”

The only plus to this tale of an Englishman in Italy who was unable to sleep, is the welcoming clouds the following day.