

in Piazza Cavour (PN) 15.00
November 29 to 30
07/08/2006 - 13-14-20-21
December
Date canceled in bad weather (info 389.91.47.244)
Lithuania in October at the border with Belarus / Lithuania in October on the border with Belarus
I am in a grove, autumn, in early October. Since a morning drizzle was falling thick and replaced from time to time by the splendor of the warm sun, the leaves rustled just above my head, only the noise would be enough to identify the year. It was not the happy beat, happy spring, nor the faint whisper and chatter prolonged summer nor so cold and babble of the late autumn, but a sleepy buzz, barely audible. A slight breeze blowing gently on the tops of the trees.
The interior of the grove, dampened by the rain, changed constantly, depending on whether the sun shone or hid behind the clouds, lit up when he was smiling as if the whole grove: the leaves have already painted their autumn color similar to that overripe grapes, changed suddenly ablaze with gold and scarlet, letting light through, confusing and overlapping before his eyes. Then suddenly everything is darkened: the bright colors they died instantly, and the sly, slyly, a fine rain was pouring on the forest murmuring. The foliage of some trees was still almost all green, though visibly pale; Only here and there, slender young trees, all red or all gold: it was a sight to see them catch fire in the sun when its rays infiltrated suddenly, sliding and flickering through the dense network of thin twigs just glistening wet from the rain.
(Taken, with some free gear, from "Memoirs of a Hunter" by I. Turgenev)
In recent weeks in many regions of Italy, as here in Tuscany it's time to harvest the olives.
and olive trees, olive trees on the brothers who make
sanctity of the densely wooded
pale and smiling.
(G. D'Annunzio, from "On the evening of Fiesole")
Trieste, Italy Piazza Unita d'
(photo by Sunday lunchtime)
Trieste, Italy Piazza Unita d'
(Picture taken last Sunday at lunchtime)
I crossed the entire city.
Then I climbed up a slope,
crowded at the beginning, then deserted,
closed by a wall:
a corner where only
sit, and I think that where it ends
the city limits.
Trieste has a sullen
grace. If you like,
is like a tomboy and voracious harsh,
with blue eyes and hands too big
to give a flower, like a love
jealous.
From this height every church, every street
discover, if crowded beach, or
the hill where, on the stony
top of a house, the last one, clings. Around
everything moving at a strange air, air tormenting,
the native air.
My city is alive in every part, has
the corner for me, my life
pensive and shy.
(U. SABA)
The Government Palace
Palace Gopcevich
Pictures taken last night / All Pictures from yesterday
Anyone also in ' charm of the Tuscan countryside can not help but notice its towering medieval villages nestled in the hills like jewels in a royal crown. From this rich treasure here we take a little gem, just to put food on errant footsteps of travelers. Here Montemerano a Dolce country of many that dominate the floor laughing the green countryside below. I think the images speak without comment. I would just add a brief note of color. Around here, in the Church of San George, there is a particular painting, known as the Madonna of Gattaiola . This name comes from the presence of a circular hole on the bottom right, for, apparently, to the passage of a cat, which is open when this table was converted into a doorway. (This news was also reported by Placida , which you dutifully point out . As you can see, cats are still there!)
(The words in italics green came from: Crossing the Maremma Tuscany G. Carducci)
Dolce country, so I took the dress conforms
proud and disdainful hand and chest
ov'odio love and never fell asleep.
see thee again, and my heart jumps a lot.
Well I know you use them in forms
eyes uncertain 'twixt smile and cry.
and follow those of 'my dreams the footsteps
wandering behind the youthful charm.
Oh, what I loved, what I dreamed it was in vain:
courses and always, and never have I reached the end:
and tomorrow I'll fall. But far
say peace to your heart
hill with the vanishing mists and green floor laughing
it rains morning.