Planting Foot on Soil 6, Giugno 2026
The tongue is not native as nor are the traditions. A culture as unbeknownst to me and yet I welcome it to embrace and coddle me as its son. The people are a mélange of cultures blended from north and south, from varied Mediterranean regions to Africa, from American wanderers to European vacationers, all moving across a land layered with the dust of empires. The bones of great warriors and cowards alike lie beneath these these stones. The preserved art of a time gone has been adorned for centuries by a people who refuse to forget.
In the weeks ahead, the soles of my feet will cross countless miles. My eyes will witness timeless grandeur. I will bask in the waters of every sea that washes these shores. For this is my heritage journey, a return to the land of my forefathers. A quest to stand before the castles of old. A pilgrimage to the shrines raised in Christ’s name.
And so I took my first step from the plane and begin a personal crusade, leaving behind all that is familiar as I walk toward the place where my story began.
fscavullo 