Echoes from my Camera Roll

📍 Home, Puglia, Italy, September '25, first Apple Pancakes of the Season 🍎🥞

And here it is, the beloved Autumn 🍂

We’re nearing the end of another turn of seasons, and ahead lie darker days, rich in introspection, lit by flickering candlelight, sweetened by the scent of apple treats, shared with a good book and a warm pumpkin milk.

It’s the season of apples, pumpkins, and cinnamon.

A season of shadows, inner work, healing, and quiet protection.

A time for letting go.

October is approaching, with its crunchy, colorful leaf-covered paths, pumpkin fields, and lanterns glowing gently to light the way through fog-kissed countryside, as the Earth prepares to rest after gifting us her harvest.

📍Carezza Lake, Trentino Alto Adige, Italy, August '25

In just a few days, we will welcome Autumn, a quiet guide leading us gently to the threshold of a new Winter.

📍Lizzano, Puglia, Italy, September '25

I said goodbye to my beloved mountains almost two weeks ago and, with autumn just around the corner, I found summer waiting for me back home in the South of Italy.

📍 Alpe di Siusi, Dolomites, Italy, August '23

End of Summer, at dawn, in a sea of mist, standing before the ancient and majestic Dolomites.

📍Locorotondo, Puglia, Italy, September '25

📍Locorotondo, Puglia, Italy, September '25

When I’m in the South of Italy, I find it harder to connect with Nature in an automatic, spontaneous way — not because Mother Nature isn’t present here, but because it takes more effort to truly notice her and access that sense of blissful connection that comes so naturally when I stand before mist-covered peaks or under ancient trees whose leaves shift color with the seasons.

📍Home, Puglia, Southern Italy

Homemade cookies, essential oils, rural gothic books and my little, magical corner of nature 🍂🕯️

📍 Canazei, Dolomites, Italy, Settember '25

September is, for many, a month of good intentions and goals — professional, physical, material.

But for me, September marks the beginning of long months of reflection, introspection, and inner work.

September awakens my creativity and my desire to engage with spiritual energies, the unconscious, the intangible.

It draws me closer to nature — a rural, simple, wise, ancient nature, both gentle and unsettling.

It brings me deep calm to imagine dry fields at dusk, wrapped in a thin mist that slows everything down, while little lanterns and candles flicker in humble stone houses, showing the way to a warm, safe place.

September evokes the peaceful feeling of scary stories and old legends told by farmers around the fire.

I celebrate it by baking cookies, lighting candles, burning essential oils, retreating into a mental elsewhere, and creating dried floral arrangements that honor the fading of nature and the reawakening of spirituality.

September is a whispered prayer to the sleeping Earth and to the shadows reappearing on the horizon of the mind — asking us once again, in an eternal cycle, not to ignore them, but to welcome them, recognize them, integrate them.

And wait for the right moment to let them go and, through them, bloom again 🕯️🍂

📍 Canazei, Dolomites, Italy, September '25

📍Road to Malga Contrin, Dolomites, Italy, Sept '25

Welcome to my little virtual haven — where the scent of wet ground, dry leaves, wood, and wild herbs lingers 🪵🌿🍄

Make yourself at home — pour a hot cup of tea, wrap yourself in a blanket, and take a quiet moment for yourself.

(Photo: 📍 Golden Lane, Prague, March '25)

My name is Fabiana. I live in a small town in Puglia, southern Italy. A short drive takes me to the sea, but my mind often drifts to the mountains and forests, which I try to reach at least once a year.

I love walking in nature, taking photos, and getting lost in quiet thoughts. 

During my mountain walks, I collect leaves, flowers, bits of wood, and pebbles — which I turn into dried arrangements, so I can always keep a piece of the wild close to my heart.

(Photo: 📍Plan Schiavaneis, Dolomites, Italy, August '25)

I have a soft spot for rural gothic tales, folklore, witches, and pagan paths. I collect screenshots of poems and book passages, and I’m endlessly fascinated by words that linger.

Sensitivity, kindness, and a touch of melancholy are the threads that weave through my days.