My time at Civitella was so rich, so layered—so rapturous, really. Waking to a view of tall cypresses beyond the castle walls from my window, walking in the density of fog during early Autumn mornings, the green hills unfurling in the distance, and the extraordinary clouds that somehow always managed to clear in time for a technicolor sunset. All these things contributed to how I spent my time—days steeped in the internal landscape of writing, reading, and researching at my big, beautiful desk in Mariposa, punctuated by forays into the Umbrian landscape, which never failed to beckon. Those daily journeys out were instrumental, too, allowing me time to tap into all the senses, and clarify my thoughts about a book project that had previously felt elusive.