a love captured

There’s a particular kind of magic that belongs to southern Italy.

It is not the typical touristy kind. Not the checklist kind either. The magic in Puglia is quieter than that, slower than that. It seeps through limestone streets, the incredible aquamarine of the Adriatic Sea, the enchanted coastline of Polignano a Mare, and through laundry fluttering between balconies, rain or shine.  

And I tried to capture it all!

The whitewashed streets of Ostuni. The cone-roofed trulli houses in Alberobello.  The Roman Amphitheater in Lecce, located directly in the heart of the city in Piazza Sant’Oronzo. Brightly colored windows and doors against the white-washed walls. The old women of Bari making orecchiette in the streets. The ancient caves and buildings along the mountainside in Materna.

Beautiful things. Postcard things.

But when I got my film back from the developer, I noticed my view had gone back to what I always find on these trips far from home.

Toward him, my real home.

And apparently, he did the same thing to me.

Neither of us noticed this happening while we were there.

But there we were in every other frame.

Again and again and again.

I love to travel. It reveals who we are when we are removed from schedules, laundry, notifications, and the boring exhaustion of ordinary life. It is rediscovering ourselves and each other in a place where neither of us knew what day would bring. My cameras caught something I didn’t know I was longing for, evidence of how much love and ease filled our days.

I used to think travel photography was about remembering where you went.

Now I wonder if it’s about remembering who you are without the worry and concern of daily life, and who was there with you.

And maybe that’s why those photos matter so much to me now.

Not because they perfectly captured Puglia. These photos matter because they captured a love that seems to photobomb every trip.  

~Staci Lee