Dawn from the Fortezza, Orvieto
Orvieto was already glowing when I settled onto a rampart of Fortezza Albornoz. A ridge of the Apennines held the sunrise for a few heartbeats, then light spilled over the range, bathing the fortress wall in gold and stirring the valley below to life. From this perch you can glimpse the city’s modern edge - highway, rail line, and the Paglia River - yet inside these ancient walls everything feels hushed and timeless.
The day before had been pure Umbrian pleasure: weaving through medieval lanes, studying classical art, lingering over a pizza lunch with a chilled glass of Orvieto Classico, then trading stories over local reds and a final splash of amaro with a growing circle of new friends.
Morning brought its own gentle ritual. We swung the hotel windows wide, letting bells and birdsong ride the cool breeze straight inside. I laced up for a jog but soon drifted into easy wandering. Historic facades, sculptures, and cliff-edge vistas blend art and nature into a single, seamless spectacle. It felt like a saturation point of beauty, the kind that overflows the senses and leaves room only to look up in quiet praise to the Lord.
Later we stepped into a thousand-year-old church perched on the opposite wall of the city - another moment of threefold splendor: art-filled interiors, distinctive architecture from an earlier age, and wide natural vistas of Umbrian countryside where stone cottages and cypress spires dotted the rolling green like a living postcard.
This photograph, one of many from my time there, tries to hold on to those layered moments: ancient stones, new friendships, and a sunrise that filled the soul.
Dawn from the Fortezza, Orvieto
Orvieto was already glowing when I settled onto a rampart of Fortezza Albornoz. A ridge of the Apennines held the sunrise for a few heartbeats, then light spilled over the range, bathing the fortress wall in gold and stirring the valley below to life. From this perch you can glimpse the city’s modern edge - highway, rail line, and the Paglia River - yet inside these ancient walls everything feels hushed and timeless.
The day before had been pure Umbrian pleasure: weaving through medieval lanes, studying classical art, lingering over a pizza lunch with a chilled glass of Orvieto Classico, then trading stories over local reds and a final splash of amaro with a growing circle of new friends.
Morning brought its own gentle ritual. We swung the hotel windows wide, letting bells and birdsong ride the cool breeze straight inside. I laced up for a jog but soon drifted into easy wandering. Historic facades, sculptures, and cliff-edge vistas blend art and nature into a single, seamless spectacle. It felt like a saturation point of beauty, the kind that overflows the senses and leaves room only to look up in quiet praise to the Lord.
Later we stepped into a thousand-year-old church perched on the opposite wall of the city - another moment of threefold splendor: art-filled interiors, distinctive architecture from an earlier age, and wide natural vistas of Umbrian countryside where stone cottages and cypress spires dotted the rolling green like a living postcard.
This photograph, one of many from my time there, tries to hold on to those layered moments: ancient stones, new friendships, and a sunrise that filled the soul.