A Place I Want to be Right Now

From when I was just eleven months old up until now, I can hardly recall a summer not spent in Citta Della Pieve, a small Italian town located somewhere between Umbria and Tuscany. It was in Italy where I was baptized, took my first steps in the plaza, and where I first lived after being adopted from China. The musky smell of tobacco, oil paint, pine nuts, and fermenting grapes are some of the most distinctive smells I can remember. I see the old men with bushy beards and crooked teeth lounging in the shade, rolling their cigarettes, and my Nonna carefully painting the poppies and apricots from the backyard. I feel the soothing darkness of the cantinas and my hands pulling apart rough, sappy pine cones in search of the precious pine nuts. I hear the whirring and squeaking of the pedestal fans and the buzzing of the house flies that seem to be everywhere. Actually, it’s not often that I smell those scents outside of Italy, but anytime we make pasta or see a particularly blue and cloudless sky, those earthy scents and memories seem to appear, reminding me of what I consider to be my hometown. I’ve moved (homes, states, and schools) quite a lot throughout my life so far, but what’s stayed consistent are those summers in Italy with my grandparents and my passion for painting and cooking, which stemmed from my experiences there. I’m getting older, and life is moving quickly. I’m busy with school and applying to colleges, adjusting to a new home and community once again, and keeping in touch with friends and family, all amidst the pandemic. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to physically go back to the little town on the hill where the olive trees sway and the air is permeated with heavenly scents of fresh fruit or roasting meat. But even just writing about that place makes me feel like I’m already there. I look forward to better times when I can go back and life will slow down again, even for just a moment.