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Country
Life
The
landscape changes at every season, and the regular fabric of the
cultivated fields either becomes clearer, or fades away in the rugged
surface of the recently ploughed and fertile land.
One may come to believe that the inhabitants of these lands, who have
always worked as farmers, have reached an agreement to give the most
suitable shade of colour to their land strips so that they are in harmony
with the surroundings.
Living
in these places means discovering new and intense beauties, learning to
know the rhythms of nature and men in harmony, rejoicing at the aromas
brought by the wind, getting astonished when seeing a grey heron that
stops in the meadow before resuming its long migration, or waiting
patiently for the porcupine to move slowly, weighed down by its stings.
The
sun rises and everything seems to stop, ready to give a silence full of
sounds, the sound of leaves caressed by the breeze and the love calls of
joyful swifts.
One may almost believe one is able to hear the sounds of ants, which are
busy with their mysterious activities and are tickling the bark of an
ancient oak.
It
is nice to warm oneself in front of the fireplace during cold winter
afternoons, while the inhabitants talk about their lives. Their lives are
so full of events, that they could fill the pages of many books.
These people are able to narrate their extraordinary stories with an
unparalleled frankness.
The
farmers living in the Marches are special people, they are both curious
and kind with newcomers, untiring and eclectic in carrying out various
tasks, sincere and loyal in their everyday relations with other
people.
They
are also very hospitable, having an inborn sense of large families ready
to welcome those passing by.
Nights
are different in this countryside. The stars can still indicate the right
way to those willing to take notice; the stars illuminate the shadows of
the hills, barely interrupted by feeble, faraway lights of sleeping
hamlets. T
omorrow a new, even more enchanting picture, will be there, framed by the
windows, waiting for me to wake up.
© 2001 Liberation Ventures Ltd.
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