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“The next day they went to pick fragole di bosco, wild strawberries, and made love in a deserted old barn above the pastures, their lips still smeared with the pulp of the fruit. The next day it was misticanza, wild leaves for salad. Benedetta was scrupulous that they must always pick first. If anyone saw them walking home with empty baskets, she warned, tongues would start wagging instantly. So they filled their baskets with rocket, wild fennel, dandelion, and lamb's lettuce before temptation overcame them and they collapsed into a quiet corner of a field, hidden only by the tall fronds of the finocchio stalks. Bruno made her close her eyes, teasing her naked body with a spray of fennel: when he kissed her between her legs, the aniseed mingled with the faint, faraway taste of the sea. We were all fish once, he thought, and this is the proof of it, this whisper of oceans in the deepest recesses of the body.” — Anthony Capella