We are staying this week in Sciacca, a middle sized town perched on a hillside on the southwestern coast of Sicily. All of my husband’s great grandparents – all eight! – were born in Sciacca and died in Norristown, Pennsylvania. Three of his grandparents were born here as well, before the families left for America at the turn of the last century. Since everyone left so long ago, we are looking for relatives of his grandfathers’ grandfathers – a bit of a needle in the haystack that is Sciacca!
Sciacca is a fishing village. The harbor is beautiful and the views of the sea outstanding. From just about any point in the town you can turn and look out over the water. The amazing thing to me is the way the color of the water changes between the land and the horizon. The thin strip of color where the sea meets the sky is the deepest indigo blue!
I am curious about why the line between colors is so distinct. Different temperatures? Different levels of salt water to fresh water? Different distances to the bottom? I am sure there is a logical explanation. But there I go again trying to figure it all out! This time the solution is to go to the beach. And off we go.