This is our last night at Le Macine and what a night it is. Thunder. Lightening. Wind. Electricity out … on … out. Torrential rain. Hail. As I write, it’s been going on for an hour and a half. We thought we’d walk up the hill for one last bite of gourmet pizza before we left. Maybe not.

The stream that has burbled so pleasantly by our kitchen window has turned into a raging river. We’ve taken pictures to mark spots on the wall of the foundation opposite us. Each time we look, the stream is inches higher. It’s whitewater. Literally!

As a writer of memoir, I know that we are more likely to remember the unusual or the painful than what happens as a mundane part of every day. This storm will ensure we remember our last night in Massa Macinaia.  If it had just been another beautiful day in paradise, what’s to remember about that?

We won’t forget this night. Mary had left her bedroom window open – she had hailstones on her bed and a river on the floor.  Water is coming in under the kitchen door and the doors where I’ve sat all these days so blissfully writing have streams of water running down the grout lines.

We took glasses of wine out to the covered front porch on the east side of the house to watch the storm. Wind and rain drove us inside. We saw water pooling under the kitchen door – wind was driving it in from the west side. It’s coming at us from all directions!

It may or may not clear in time for us to walk up the hill for pizza. History says yes; storms pass quickly here. But as they say in the financial world, the past is no predictor of the future. We hope we get supper.

Meanwhile, we pour another glass of wine, eat the last cheese in the house, and spend a memorable last night in our beautiful home in Italy.

Ciao!