A few miles before we arrived at La Torre, I looked out the window and gasped. The light was falling perfectly, and the bridge I saw was one of the most magnificent sights I had ever seen. We were tired, and hungry, and it didn’t feel like the right time to stop and hike around to take a picture, so I said we could take care of it the next day.
The next day, it wasn’t the same. It was certainly pretty, but it wasn’t magical. It didn’t take my breath away.
The lesson I learned in Lucca is to trust my instincts. Next time I see that light on that bridge or the bride or a coastline, I’m doing whatever it takes to freeze that moment in time forever.