Flowers, Home, & Reflections
I was flipping through my travel photos today and stumbled upon this photograph snapped while on an extended stay in Chianti. The photo is not fantastic; in fact, I think I used my phone. The focal point of the image is a simple aster delicately adorned with a solitary droplet of water left behind from a much-welcomed overnight rainfall.
On a quiet day, seemingly lacking any exciting activities, or so I thought, I happened upon a flower that would leave a lasting impression. In truth, the flower led me to contemplative thoughts on travel, which is what left the impression. The morning air was crisp, carrying the smell of freshly dampened earth and after indulging in our usual morning feast of cappuccinos and pastries, Liam and I decided to waddle our way up the steep hill towards the market. Our minds were set on procuring yet more food for the day, a delightful habit of consuming copious amounts of food when in Italy. Unknowingly, this little flower would captivate my attention, unleashing an internal discussion on travel and my awareness of missing home.
Autumn is a delightful season to visit the Chianti. The temperature begins to cool, and evening rainfalls become more common. As we made our way up the hill, I paused briefly to soak in the view of the grapevines bursting with clusters of plump grapes stretching endlessly across the recently quenched rolling hills. The rain had washed away the thick layer of white Tuscan dust kicked up on the landscape, left behind by the various vehicles traveling along the Strada Bianche, a network of limestone dirt roads crisscrossing the Tuscan region. The rain had rejuvenated the local flora, which was comprised mainly of grapevines and olive trees, reinvigorating their brilliant hues. Mother nature provided us welcome relief, if only just for the morning, by reducing the dust-laden air we had been breathing.
In this moment of pause, I bent down to pluck out a pebble that had slipped into my sandal. And there it was, this lovely flower catching my eye. Growing on the edge of the vineyard, its variegated pink edges radiated out vibrantly against the chalk-white Tuscan soil. I could not help but exclaim, "Well, hello!" This small aster, though white in color, reminded me of the lavender-colored asters back home in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California. I get quite excited when the asters arrive in our little forest. Their bloom signals the end of a snowy winter and the promise of warmer days ahead.
In Chianti, however, it is a different story; I link the blooming asters to the approaching harvest time of grapes and olives. As I snapped this photo, my thoughts continued to drift back to home. I thought of how the weather was changing and how likely it was that the asters carpeting the forest ground along the pathway from my house to the lake behind our property were now beginning to fade as the season turned cold and even a bit frosty.
When visiting remote villages thousands of miles and an ocean away from home, I find myself drawn to the simple beauty of random flowers growing in unexpected places, particularly those that defiantly sprout from a crack in a stone. While others around me may be preoccupied with observing and photographing notable landmarks, you are more likely to find me getting up close and personal with a lily or dandelion. The sight of a flower tucked into the scene offers both a visual and olfactory connection to home and the people I love. It grounds me and makes me feel connected, regardless of my physical location.
Despite my constant craving for movement and wandering, I often find myself succumbing to homesickness, a feeling that might surprise those who know me. Whenever the sense of longing for home arrives in my thoughts, I seek the familiarity of flowers—and occasionally a bag of potato chips! Their simple beauty, even in unfamiliar places, captivates me. They stir up emotions and memories that transcend distance and time, connect me to various events and stages of life, and add a sense of belonging no matter where I may be wandering.
When you travel, what sights, sounds, or even tastes remind you of home?
Enjoy!
—M
