It’s winter and i’m walking along the cobblestone path. The quiet snowflakes begin to fall delicately on the surface leaving a gentle layer of snow like sifted icing sugar on a cake. My small heeled boots clattering against the hard rock as I make my way up to the town centre of Manarola. Once distant sounds of chatter and laughter become louder as I get closer to the town centre. People have taken refuge from the developing snow, I bury my chin under my woollen jacket and brace myself for the wind chills. The snow begins to get thicker and the once loud cobblestone path is blanketed in a layer of white snow. The cold, crisp air stings my throat as I walk. Snow crunches under my boots leaving small footprints from my weight. The houses create an inviting atmosphere as the smell of the burning fires fills the air. As I bend down to tie my laces the icy snow brushes against my hand. The soft, delicate snow is cold at the touch and stings my freezing hands. Everything is quiet and still during the winter here, only the small river that ran through the town centre was alive.
The dull, demotivating winter eventually passes and colours begin to appear all around the town. Lighting up with their petals. Rich burgundy coloured flowers stand tall and proud as an ocean breeze floats around the city, creating a salty smell that fills the air. White caps travel into the stone wall crashing in a comforting rhythm, sending the waves flying violently up the wall. The sun warms my back as I look down over the rock wall. Boats line the docks which glimmer on the waters translucent surface.
Our bare feet patter along the cobblestone paths as we run around the town. The rivers relaxing rhythm flows downstream, we follow it to the end and leap into the warm, salty sea. Radiant Laughter echoed off the smaller stone wall behind us as we scrambled back to the shore, grinning as we swam after each other. The afternoon heat rolls in which draws people closer to the beach. In the spring everything is bustling with movement, birds are chirping, music is playing, children on push bikes are racing. Spring fills the town with joy and laughter. Everyone is out enjoying the sun.
The smell of the freshly baked bread fills the air as we walk back up to the beach. Wrapping myself in my warm towel, the fine sand sinks beneath my feet and through my toes. I look out into the far distance and see the tall silhouettes of the fisherman pulling in their netting as the sun behind them begins to slowly slip behind the horizon. No one wants the day to end.