The High Summer Edit
The High Summer Edit
The High Summer Edit
Midday in Ischia. The sun blazes in the Mediterranean sky, drenching the island's tufo walls and red rust terracotta in light.
Midday in Ischia. The sun blazes in the Mediterranean sky, drenching the island's tufo walls and red rust terracotta in light.
Perched above the azure sea amongst the pines, she lazes on a dappled terrazzo listening to the hush of the waves, dress rippling in the salty breeze.
Midday in Ischia. The sun blazes in the Mediterranean sky, drenching the island's tufo walls and red rust terracotta in light.
Midday in Ischia. The sun blazes in the Mediterranean sky, drenching the island's tufo walls and red rust terracotta in light.
Midday in Ischia. The sun blazes in the Mediterranean sky, drenching the island's tufo walls and red rust terracotta in light.
Now and again, a voice calls out in dialect. The distant buzz of a Vespa comes and goes, weaving its way through the hum of the cicadas.
As the shadows lengthen, evening beckons...
Perched above the azure sea amongst the pines, she lazes on a dappled terrazzo listening to the hush of the waves, dress rippling in the salty breeze.
Perched above the azure sea amongst the pines, she lazes on a dappled terrazzo listening to the hush of the waves, dress rippling in the salty breeze.
Now and again, a voice calls out in dialect. The distant buzz of a Vespa comes and goes, weaving its way through the hum of the cicadas.
Now and again, a voice calls out in dialect. The distant buzz of a Vespa comes and goes, weaving its way through the hum of the cicadas.
As the shadows lengthen, evening beckons...
As the shadows lengthen, evening beckons...
Welcome to high summer.
Welcome to high summer.
Welcome to high summer.