The word rolls out of my mouth with ease. Maybe it is just me. I'm a conifer kind of gal, an ever happy Evergreen lover, and a wanna-be tree hugger. I love everything about cipressi~ their height, smell, color , cones and poetic suggestions. Good bye, welcome home, majestic, earthy and lil' ol' me. These are just some of the words I think of when I see Tuscany's cypress trees waving from hill tops and beckoning down dirt roads. I know they aren't mine. And they aren't really Tuscany's. But I wave back, never the less.
In 1993, I fell in lust with Fiorile, a Taviani brothers film spanning two centuries of a cursed Tuscan family. The opening of the film begins with the present-day family driving down a cypress-lined Tuscany road, telling the tale of how the family's bad luck legends. French soldiers, stolen fortune, poison mushrooms, 19th century costumes, cute boys, melodrama and cypress trees dotting the countryside- I was hooked. I didn't want to move Tuscany-- I just wanted to drive around the region in search of fantastic stories.
I cipressi che a Bolgheri alti e schietti van da San Guido in duplice filar,
quasi in corsa giganti giovinetti, mi balzarono incontro e mi guardar...
Viale dei Cipressi, a 5 km long road near Livorno