Here we are,
at the top of the mountain, gazing at the different
shades of blue as the sky merges with the sea. We try
to focus the outlines of the horizon that stretches
from Corsica to the Islands of Capraia and Gorgona,
arriving at the bastions of the Apuan Alps, and the
Apennines beyond.
We begin by taking the trail that skirts the steeply
sloping cove hidden among typical Mediterranean undergrowth,
make our way through centuries-old chestnut woods and
finally reach a plateau scattered with masses of outcropped
granite in an expanse of yellow gorse, interspersed
here and there with mauve rock roses.
The whole scene takes our breath
away … but even more awaits us …
Silence …. not the absolute, all-engaging silence
whose cumbersome presence is almost deafening, but rather
the kind of silence that we perceive when we find ourselves
immersed in and surrounded by nature…
We listen to the tiny lizards as they zigzag swiftly
in and out of the grass, the songs of the birds in the
thick scrub, the rustling of the leaves, our own breath.
It is the silence of our weariness, finally carried
away on the wings of the sea breeze, the silence of
the troubles we have left behind, who knows where …
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