The island of Salina casts its spell the moment it hovers into view from a boat’s deck (of course there is no airport), its tiny houses scattered like snowdrops across the hillsides. The architecture is rather disciplined: most buildings are whitewashed, but powder blue, terra-cotta pink and ochre yellow are also options. Not so long ago, the Aeolian islands weren’t so idyllic. They were some of the poorest communities in Italy, and Salina had the least going for itself. It can today boast the most exquisite, untouched beauty, blessed with the clearest water in the Mediterranean, blissfully free of noise and pollution. If glamorous party seekers flock to Panarea, the island of Salina beckons easygoing travelers looking for inner peace.
I find these images always infinitely malleable, stirring imperceptible echoes of our lives present and past.
The eternity of a moment.