The Village Morning

Sitting here at the kitchen table, I hear the shepherd who lives uphill start his delapidated truck. It seems quieter this time. He might have fixed it since our last visit. Or our closed windows might muffle the rattle.

But it’s a welcome sound. Because this quiet mountain village sinks into deep silence as cold weather arrives. Tourists and visitors leave. Villagers huddle before their fires. Venturing out only to buy their few grocery items, or pay bills at the post office.

Other neighbors are bringing in their winter wood supply. We’ll hear them toss logs down the steps of the ancient cobblestoned street later on. And the clatter of their pull cart as they tug it up and down.

But not at this early hour. Now they huddle before crackling fires, sipping their morning espresso. Or scurry their kids around to catch the school bus that runs to the nearby larger village.

Yes, mornings here in our mountain village are quiet. A deep, penetrating silence. A quiet that can, I suppose, feel heavy and oppressive to some. Many of the residents here find it so. For them it signals another season of solitude and isolation. Already, they anxiously await the return of spring and returning visitors.

But we city dwellers find it welcoming. We embrace it, for the most part, without difficulty. Although city is an ironic term for our home town of 3000 inhabitants. But to our villagers it must seem like a city, compared to their population of 400.

There’s another family in town, Afghan refugees. A couple with 2 kids. Hubby helped them buy clothing when he was out shopping for groceries. He said they seemed pleasant, but only spoke Farsi and English. I hope for their sakes they learn Italian. Those languages won’t go far here.

So there is some movement, but for the most part, we encounter a still, muffled silence. A silence that speaks peace, rest, and restoration.

Tomorrow is Sunday, and we’ll be off to the tiny Evangelical church in the morning. It was the first in this province, started 100 years ago. We’ll have breakfast at the only coffee bar and have the pleasure of seeing some villagers. And reconnect with our spiritual family there as well.

Life in this isolated place reinforces important lessons each time we come. Teaching us how little we need to live. Reminding us to count our blessings. And prodding us to see the importance of taking time to stop, reflect, and be still before God. In many ways, it often seems like a crash course in Basic Living 101.

Life, when reduced to the essentials, can be quite simple and uncomplicated. And I’m glad there are still places in this world that help us remember that.

But for now, I see my time is up. And that actually I went over my five mintures. For some reason, the timer didn’t work this time.

Five Minute Friday is a blog link-up with a one-word, weekly prompt. It’s a free write, which means: no editing or over-thinking. And no worrying about correct grammar or punctuation. Just write. Then link your published post to the link-up, following their instructions.

LEGGI IN ITALIANO → 
Images: Lamp & chimney | Other is mine