📍Pentedattilo, Calabria — Summer, Late Afternoon

Rock. Ruin. Silence.
The cliff rises like a petrified hand. At its base lie the houses of Pentedattilo.

Its name, meaning five fingers in Greek, refers to the shape of the rock.
Of ancient origin, the village was finally abandoned in 1971.

The heat lingers. A wasp drifts away. Shadows stretch across the crumbling houses.

I raise my camera. The landscape seems to hold its breath.
In 1847, Edward Lear wrote:
“The aspect of Pentedattilo is perfectly magical…”

Time has passed,
yet here, it feels suspended.