Russell and His LEGOS

"What about this spot?" I suggest, tapping a divet in the railing of the worn, naked fence.

"Hmm- that could work" he responds in his soft, Australian accent, hand to chin in a pensive form. He delicately places the pieces in the suggested spot, steps back to examine the scene, and finds it sufficient.

"So how long have you been dating your girlfriend?" I ask, partly to fill silence, but mostly because she is the subject of our quest. Russell continues to meticulously manipulate the tiny figurines ever so slightly.

"We met in university" he replies, and I decide not to press for details, as concentration washes over his gentle features. He appears satisfied, and reaches back for his Canon.

"I take these pictures wherever I go on my solo travels," he admits, almost sheepishly. I throw my hands up to imply I offer no judgment.

"It's cute, really!" I offer as reassurance. "I'm sure she loves to know you are thinking of her." A few minutes pass quietly. Click. Adjust. Click. Adjust.

The end result is heartwarming and mildly envy-inducing to a single 29 year old woman. Revealed on screen are two LEGO figures, striking an uncanny resemblance to Russell and the woman I presume is his girlfriend, hands over heads, exuding as much enthusiasm as two pieces of small plastic possibly can. In the background, the golden hour has descended on the tiny seaside heaven of Vernazza.

"It's perfect!" I squeal, and Russell breaks into a boyish grin, while carefully tucking the figures back into a tin case for safekeeping.