This article first appeared in the October 2012 issue
of the award-winning subscription travel newsletter Dream of Italy
The sound of silence is sweet at Villa Pipistrelli.
By Walter Sanders
I finish my meal of prosciutto, salami, pecorino, pane e olio. I grab a notebook and pour another glass of Chianti Classico to bring outdoors. It’s a sunny September afternoon and I choose a spot under a wisteria-covered pergola.
I have Villa Pipistrelli all to myself because I have arrived earlier than the other journalists in my group. Perfection. I become aware of the quiet. No man-made sounds. The silence heightens all my senses. Even the occasional dove calls her mate in sotto voce.
I began to write…focused by the silence.
A bee buzzes by. The sound is almost shocking, electric. I have to stop and write about that glorious interruption.
I linger and watch the valley change muted colors as the sun sets.
I marvel at the surroundings: such places exist only in movies, romantic novels, in dream states after a pleasing Italian dinner.
But Villa Pipistrelli—the country house where I am—does exist. In the days to come, I will learn how intense and liberating Tuscan country life can be.