My new pal Scintilla at Bell'Avventura wrote about the strega in her Positano neighborhood today. Her post is a series of stories about a curious old woman who steals vegetables from the neighborhood gardens. Missing melanzane aside, you can add the strega to a very long list of reasons I need to go back to Positano.
Over the course of a thousand words Scintilla evokes a place where myth and memory join hands and work an impossible magic. Her post took me back to a place where eggplant-stealing witches and 10th century icons coexist in relative peace. A place where the town dog takes a nap on the same beach Saracen invaders stormed a thousand years ago. For ten minutes I was standing under the Mediterranean sun and inhaling a rosemary and lemon scented breeze. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I came to her final paragraph and read that she'd dedicated those stories to me. My day is now perfect. Thank you! Read "Stregata" here.