somewhere in northern italy

The air was warm and heavy, the smell of summer was blowing through the open windows as we drove.

The car seat was still warm as we left it, parked under the sun.

Sweet, cold ice cream melted and fell into the cobblestone street as we watched the shimmering lake down below. The tiny stone bridge in the distance felt sort of like a portal. The kids jumped into the water as the church bells rang far away, joining the sound of laughter and cicadas. The golden light painted their bodies as the cool lake water welcomed them.

After a little while, hands shaking, we made our way through the damp, dark tunnel. We counted down too many times, getting to zero, but not being able to jump. Hearts skipping, and hands sweating, we watched as kids showed us how easy it was.

È facile! I show you. Tre, due, uno. Splash. Now you.

We jumped into the portal and took with us the butterflies that were stuck in our stomachs. The lake felt different than the sea. The butterflies in my stomach flew away with the first big breath after the long way up in the sweet blue water.

Sitting on the moss-filled slippery stairs, we watched as kids continued to jump from the bridge until the sun went over the mountains and the sky was painted blue.