The Valnerina at the end of March
Frescoes above one of the city gates.
Italian graffiti in San Pellegrino
Frescoes in the Church of Santa Scholastica, built in the place where she lived in the early days of her vocation, about half a mile outside of town.
San Pellegrino, about 8 miles down the valley from Norcia.
Castellucio in November, about another 1100 m. higher than us. It's all under snow now.
Still a very rural place.
My trusty bike, in town.
Playing with fire. December 9th, the vigil of the feast of the Translation of the Holy House of Loretto. Since the 12th century, people up and down the Valley light bonfires (and eat grilled pork and drink mulled wine) to help the angels find their way to Loreto with their precious burden.
4 comments:
Looks like you are well-situated. As an irresponsible father of eight, I could envy your ability to get out of Dodge, so to speak, and focus on essentials. But of course we all have the duties of our state of life, and as St. Francis de Sales so gently pounds home is that therein lies the path of holiness. But I will say that reading your blog allows all of us to vicariously get out of Dodge, and I enjoy your posts immensely. May we all get through this sad era and be joyful in heaven.
God bless.
Ditch the bike. You'd like hot scooting around on a motorino.
Tony
Love the photos, Hilary. :)
Hey, no dissing the bike. The bike and I are one. I am the bike; the bike is me. Love me, love my bike.
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