
A gnarled old olive tree frames a countryside grove where a stone press stands ready beside rows of black and green olives still on the branch. A woman in a blue apron rakes fallen olives into a pile nearby, while further off, other workers gather fruit along the sloped rows. Rows of terracotta and glass jars filled with golden oil line the path beside the press, its worn millstone and wooden screw waiting for the next batch. A whitewashed farmhouse with a red tiled roof sits on the hillside above the grove, framed by cypress trees and distant blue mountains. A rabbit rests in the wildflowers near the tree's roots, and a bright bird perches on a low branch overhead. The row of filled jars beside the press already counts out the grove's morning yield.
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