It’s our third winter in Tuscany, and not every winter is the same.
This may not be the coldest winter in Borgo a Mozzano, but it is undoubtedly the wettest. Despite the many beautiful, sunny days we’ve already enjoyed, the weather this season has shown a different facial expression. Not a smooth, even skin, but one with deep wrinkles, marks, and irregularities, a brief assertion of its capricious nature.
The weather forecast predicts ten days of rain. A rain dance that will nourish nature, we think at first, but soon the forecast escalates to a code orange weather warning. Schools in the province of Lucca are preemptively closed, and we play it safe by stocking up on groceries for the next five days. Then, the heavens open. Rain and hailstones, followed by hours of sheets of rain. It feels like we’re trapped inside a car wash, our beautiful view is replaced by a gray, desolate wall. Our cat pays no attention and starts a sleep marathon, hunting holds no appeal when the mice are surely hiding in their safe havens, binge-watching series. For the toads, however, these are ideal weather conditions. We see them hopping around as if the Olympic Games in Toadland have begun. We bake bread again, a reminder of the diverse life of a photographer.
Bit by bit, the first reports trickle in through social media. Landslides on the opposite side of the Serchio River isolate entire villages from the outside world. Neighboring provinces are also hit hard, the Pisa-Livorno-Florence highway is closed, with entire sections submerged underwater. To make matters worse, images from Florence show streets flooded with water, replacing the throngs of summer tourists.
The mayor of Borgo a Mozzano, Patrizio, becomes our captain in this churning sea of misfortune. The perfect storm unfolds. He is on duty and remains so, calling on people to report all waves of debris and stones. His crew/deckhands, “the municipal services”, go all out, determined to tame this storm. The ship “Borgo a Mozzano” will not capsize. Roadworks already underway are quickly reopened to allow traffic circulation. The speed at which rubble is cleared and roads are made passable again is remarkable. If this had happened in Belgium, it might have sparked the familiar debate: is this a regional road, a provincial road, or should the municipality be responsible? Fortunately, here everyone bands together to find solutions. Borgo a Mozzano and its captain once again demonstrate their strength, steering us safely to the harbor.
Unfortunately, the pirates are also on deck, the political opposition. They thrive on setbacks, dropping their anchor of criticism whenever possible. They claim to have long possessed the wisdom to solve this phenomenon, yet their eyepatches betray them, blindness clouds their judgment and blurs their vision. Our captain will not let our ship be hijacked by this band of buccaneers.
Even we have experienced the consequences of bad weather before. Trees can snap in our street, and our driveway can transform into a deep stream. With a nervous heart, we assess the damage, but we have been spared this time. Our cat resumes hunting. Are we on the right side of the river, or was it sheer luck this time? To our surprise, this event holds little news value internationally. Media prefer to focus on the antics of Trump and Musk or the muscle-flexing developing on a European scale under the guise of defense. Days later, we still see entire trees floating in the Serchio River, it’s like the swimming championship has begun.
After the rain comes sunshine, that's partially true. We are treated to spring in all its glory, life resumes, nature awakens, and we head back into the mountains to photograph. But soon, it becomes clear that our luck will be short-lived, as rain is forecast once again. Madam March, you were rather grumpy this year, sullen, irritable, quarrelsome, surly, and abrupt. Hopefully, Miss April will be in a better mood, kind, friendly, and indulgent.
