Lake Como is shaped like an inverted Y, and Lecco sits on its southeastern tip, where it debouches into the river Adda. This end of the lake is deep and narrow, hemmed in by high cliffs (a bit like a Norwegian fjord), so any wind from the north is funneled through a narrow passage before it comes screaming down on Lecco.
I woke up at 5:30 this morning to a high wind banging our shutters; I eventually had to get up and close them all.
Now the sun is finally rising, casting pink light on the freshly-snowcapped mountain that I can see from my studio, and there are fast-moving whitecaps on the lake.
This house is hazardous to my productivity. Instead of working, I gaze out the window, fascinated by the endlessly-changing panorama of light on the mountains. Few offices in the world can boast such a view. It may not be good for my output, but it’s definitely good for my soul.