Sometimes the road taken is not clear and smooth. Sometimes it’s more like a rough and uneven path, studded with rocks.
It’s challenging to go down a road like this. It demands energies and efforts and maybe even sacrifices.
But how rewarding is to conquer the goal that made you start the journey in the first place?
Tag: sestola
Things look very different when you see them from an unusual point of view. For example, imagine you find yourself on the top of a castle tower and you look down. What you might see is similar to what you see in the picture I chose for this week’s challenge.
Everything looks so small: the trees, the houses, the church and even the belfry, which you would normally consider majestic. But, the tiniest thing you see (actually nothing more than some colorful dots in this pic) is us. People.
Teeny-tiny as we are, we’re capable of greatness: great goods and, unfortunately, of great bads too. I don’t know, I think we should be very aware of the fact that we are really nothing more than a spec of dust in the universe. At the same time, as small as we are, we can achieve great goals if only we put our minds to it. History proves it. And isn’t that mind-blowing?
Prendi un luogo che conosci bene, quasi quanto le tue tasche, e guardalo con occhi nuovi. Dimentica quello che già sai e lasciati entusiasmare dalle piccole cose.
Assapora la pace e l’armonia che trovi solo nel bosco. Il silenzio che ti avvolge mentre ti addentri, il profumo dei pini che si fa pungente nelle narici, i raggi del sole che filtrano appena qua e là. La natura padrona che popola la montagna con scoiattoli che si arrampicano sugli alberi, cerbiatti che furtivi attraversano i sentieri, funghi che spuntano dove soltanto il giorno prima non c’era niente.
Il peso dell’aria ha un’altra grammatura e una trasparenza che svela il cielo. Il verde ricco della vegetazione si staglia sull’azzurro e la panna morbida delle nuvole che, puntualissime, iniziano a radunarsi nel primo pomeriggio.
L’acqua incontaminata delle cascate che scorre su massi muschiati.
Lo specchio calmo del lago turbato dai guizzi dei pesci che sfuggono alle lenze.
Il dolce delle more sulla lingua, mentre i palmi si tingono di rosso e le dita punzecchiate dai rovi.
Il crack dei rami secchi sotto le suole, il fruscio delle foglie che ondeggiano in alto.
Gli uccelli che lanciano il loro richiamo per trovare compagnia o anche solo per la voglia di farlo.
La mia vita nei boschi.
Pick a place you know very well and try to look at it through new eyes. Forget what you already know and get excited by the little things.
Enjoy the peace and harmony that you only find in the woods. The silence that wraps you while you penetrate, the scent of pine trees that becomes pungent into your nostrils, the sun rays filtering here and there. Mother Nature that populates the mountain with squirrels climbing trees, furtive fawns crossing the paths, mushrooms sprouting where, just the day before, there was nothing.
In the mountains, air has a different weight and transparency. The rich green vegetation blends with the blue sky and the soft white cream of which clouds seem made of.
The pristine water cascading and flowing over mossy boulders.
The sweet taste of blackberries on the tip of the tongue, while hands become reddish and fingers get stung by brambles.
The creak of branches under your feet, the rustling of leaves swaying in the wind.
The birds call in order to gather or even just because they want to.
This, my walden.