We spent Christmas beneath the mountains in my father's house in Italy. The sun was out and it was amazing leaving the cold north for long, light days in the south. It was warm enough to sit outside and eat, and the birds were singing. I've been there in summer and spring and now winter, and I don't know which season it's most beautiful. Nature is just something else there. Anyways, it was so great spending time with the brothers and hanging out and being quiet and just not think about work for 10 days.
We had a pit stop along the way from Rome. In just two hours, the temperature had dropped 10 degrees, and the afternoon sun kissed the cool mountain tops.
There was hardly any snow on the Maiellas but the fog made for an impressive view from the garden.
One day, we drove up to the Gran Sasso and remembered to take lots of band photos.
I love these boys to the universe's end and back!
We grilled arrosticini, and evidently the boys did a better job than their neighbour.
Sølve is staring into the blue mountains.
Anders looked victorious on the stones.
Rocca Calascio was just as majestic as it was in August. It's so impressive to build a castle on a mountain top.
Just look at that! And the guy sitting there in front of the world.
It's my family down there, the small dots.
Sølve against light and sporting some kind of man bun.
I took a walk one of the days. Walked down the hills and back. Jesus, it's a hike!
When I came back, only Sølve was home. So we made whisky and coffee and sat outside and played games while we talked about literature and stuff. It was wonderful.
On the last day, the two youngest wanted to play football near the house, so Sølve and my father and I drove to the little town of Caramanico Terme. We landed in the middle of the siesta so the town was literally abandoned. But it was sort of nice to have a whole place to ourselves.
Oh, those small mountain towns!
Italy, my darling, I'm almost sure we'll see each other again in 2016.