The bura and the deep blue sea

These powerful bone-chilling winds sweep down from the mountains and churn swells in the Adriatic. The deep sea pounded and hissed, hissed and pounded, crashing against rocks just outside our windows. Icy crystalline spray leapt at us again and again throughout the night, yet we kept the windows open wide

hungering for the absolution only a gale can gift.

And by dawn we were rewarded, stripped bare of our heavy winter souls.

We woke free

on Easter morning.