Under the Istrian Sun

It’s been a moment since I last posted. My life has been on pause—a beautiful pause.

Under the Istrian sun, I’ve been surrounded by the scent of red clay earth, where olive trees and vineyards stretch toward infinity. I’ve been intoxicated by the smells of fresh fruit and the taste of farm-cured prosciutto, sun-ripened olives, eggs from my neighbor, homemade bread, and golden olive oil. Here, the wine is as drinkable as the water—effortless, natural, divine.

I’ve been baptized in the waters of the Adriatic Sea, exfoliated by the rocks, the salt, the sun, and the winding coast. I’ve been immersed in the culture, the lazy hot days and the cool starry nights.

I feel incredibly blessed to spend my summers here, creating culture and lasting memories for my daughter. It fills my heart to see our home come alive with family, cousins, and friends from all over Europe and the States—each one bringing love, laughter, and warmth into our lives.

Every time I return, I find myself gazing at the crystal-clear sea and the endless skies above, quietly thanking God for this moment, because nothing in life is truly permanent. My gratitude for this place I call home runs as deep as the roots my grandparents planted with their own hands, from the fig trees to the grapevines that never fail to bless us with their fruit each year. I’m equally grateful to my father for building upon it and entrusting it to us.

I promise to honor this home in return—with love, care, and devotion—so it may continue to thrive for generations to come.

And to all of you—loyal friends, followers, and subscribers—we welcome you into our home as well. Consider this your invitation. Be our guest.