Sunlight slants across worn tiles, casting sharp shadows from potted plants. A lone chair sits slightly askew, as if someone just stood up. The air feels thick with quiet—no voices, just the faint hum of insects. This patio holds time in its stillness.
Nestled among rugged hills, the stone houses of Abruzzi cling to the slopes. Sunlight washes over terracotta roofs, casting long shadows across narrow streets. The landscape feels both weathered and alive, where every cobblestone holds generations of footsteps.