It is a small windy hill, everything that grows quickly cannot withstand the
wind, it breaks.

Only the Oaks stand tall.
To live in this place is to have patience, to know how to wait.
To put down strong and deep roots in the Earth before launching into the Sky. Up here the Earth, the Rocks and the Wind speak to you.
Even the Oaks speak to you and the Brambles, the Elders, the Fox and the Scops Owl, the
Buzzard and the Short-toed Eagle that captures the Snakes and also the White Egrets
that, every year, in late Summer, pass through here during their
migratory journey.
When traveling, sometimes you stop in some places rather than others.
A sort of CAREFULNESS guides you.
The one that accompanies you on your travels especially when you know the way.
The one of poets and dreamers, that makes you no longer one but multiple,
no longer divided but united,
not ONE but ALL.
We live in a place for Careless Seekers.
When Luca arrived it was
Before Spring.
There were
The Blossoms of the Apricot and the Cherry
the tilled Earth
the Silence with which Winter packs its bags.
He looked through his eyes
of a careless man, of a Poet.