For one reason I want to go back to being a child: to wash myself, once again, the face with the rose petals on the morning of the feast of the Ascension! The peasant grandmother filled a basin of water and made you fall into lots of freshly picked rose petals. We then grandchildren, in turn, hands together, eyes closed, the mixture attingevamo miraculous. The icy water, the smell of rose petals They grabbed wet to the skin: a strange sensation ran through our bodies and our souls ... until riaprivamo eyes ... And instantly reappeared grandmother smiling, satisfied for having made to reunite with nature ... the simple, ancient, joyful rite!
Now that grope in this present made of the city, made of concrete on each side,
where a smell of "roasting" from the industrial area forces me to amletiche reflections (appělo or appělo? That's is the question), but now that, while watching, touching, listening bradipamente, I happen to share the chirping of birds with the toilet discharge tenant upstairs ... now how am I still "reunite"? How can I ever annihilate, mingle with a nature which I now, and perhaps you, understand? Are not we forgetting any sense "natural"? The rain that can get wet and scivolarci hair on the face, the wistful sound of wind, the sudden and rapid pain of nettle sting, the absolute silence of a forest, a sky lit only by stars. I puzzling, therefore, those who want to preach to "retrain" the coast of Eboli (that of Battipaglia, around three or four pines, waiting patiently for a urination, collegial and focused, the new mayor and new administration for eufitotanasia ) now that, after the demolition of illegal housing is nearly back to its original purity, to a state that makes it again a "place" of nature! So let's leave this coast, "abbandoniamola" to itself: let the trees and animals that live there they reproduce, multiply wildly even undermining what we, in the past, we have built ... destroying. We return to a pine forest, a beach, a sea "free"! Unfortunately, however, can only dream ... or wait ... wait, even a few thousand years, you realize that the old Platonic thesis dealing with this policy the "philosophers" rather than the construction and dentists. O no!? Or maybe someone has already been released, managed to skip the "wall"? Yes, two living beings we have already succeeded in Battipaglia, being Domodossola. There are two "green", two young men, perhaps children of the wind, two splendid poplars. They were born and raised in an abandoned field, beyond the wall of the "new" public garden. Nobody has planted these trees, no one has ever cared. If no rain, if not the sun, if not nature! They are there ... silent ... perhaps clarify that, because we are idiots to believe they can restrict, fenced with barbed wire, walls, barriers of all kinds, plants, animals, rivers, and often ... the dreams and ideas of other men.