I had always imagined I would take my little family to the ocean, somewhere in Italy. Little could have I have known that my wife would somehow be allergic to the pine trees there, or that the baby would catch a virus, and then my older daughter as well. The doctors came, the medicine was bought. They rested in the room, as I went out for food and supplies. We never even made it into the water together, but at one point they all were on the mend.
In the afternoons, I walked out into that blazing hot, fierce Tuscan sun baking everything in its path. Here, a man watered his garden, there a lone tree stood out of line with the others. The road sloped off into the distance, and I followed it. A clump of blackbirds swirled around empty fields. A gate hung open. At one point, I knew it was time to start back. I heard tiny bells, a man shouting and then all at once a herd of sheep in a cloud of dust were crossing the road. I took 3 frames before the man waved his hand, telling me to get out of the way.
