Il Respiro degli Alberi

Le Radici dell'Anima (Leonardo Nava)

Welcome back ...

... to Milano, the City, the Italian economical and financial engine, the beating heart of the 2015 Universal Exhibition.
 
(Made and sent from my mobile.)

Fort Campomolon

What remains of Forte Campomolon, a WW1 Italian fort facing the former Austrian border, is just a round-about gallery dug into the mountain sandstone to help the heavy artillery climb up to the fort roof. The top of the mount has been now conquered by tall trellises carrying arrays oh huge drum-like antennas for long haul radio hops. Rubble and debris are spread everywhere. A stone hung on a wall celebrates an Italian officer who sacrificed his and others lives to defend this forgotten corner of the World.

Luckily, the strong winds blowing from the bottom of the valley conceal the hiss of the telecom cabinets cooling system. I can only hear my breath echoing in the emptiness of this circular gallery.

(Made and sent from my mobile.)

This is not Portofino ...

 

... but it looks even nicer with the right eyes. 

Lanzino, not far from Lavarone, has each of its ten (not one more) houses with a different color.

(made and sent from my mobile)

Ahab

Year after year, he stands upright in his wooden grim.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

On the WW1 tracks

This year is the 100th anniversary of the Italian ingress to WW1 with their famous "attack" on May 25 to the Austrian border after crossing river Piave overnight. I'm spending two weeks on the mountains where both "pretenders" faced each others for years, uselessly bombing and killing each other without moving a step ahead from the forts where they used to hide. Every stone has a century long history, here. Every top of a mount has its trenches, bunkers, forts that could tell of four long years of reciprocal "observation". And I feel allowed to assume that everything I find on my walks has had the same destiny, the same story behind.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

The Interconnection Tree

I wonder how is it possible that after walking for hours under the trees of a forest the first instinct that two people feel is to sit, take a picture and post it on the web.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Mediterraneo - III

Mediterraneo - II

Mediterraneo - I

A real pity I can't transmit to you the sound and the pressure of the wind, the roar of the crushing waves few meter away on the cutting lava tongues sliding into the water, the smell of salt in the dried up pools, the noise of thousands cicadas at dawn and the seagulls flying around over your head.

Trabucchi - I

I'm going to post several pictures of these old, romantic fishing installations that is possible to find along the rocky coast of the Adriatic sea. They are called "trabucchi", a name that is connected to the catapult engine that allows quick pulling of the net (a "trabucco" is also a medieval assault machine looking like a catapult).

Most of these Aleppo's pinewood buildings are no longer used for professional fishing, some of them have been converted into minimal restaurants, few others are only used in winter. They are patrolled by seagulls that stand on the antennae that cross the seafront. They look so robust but the steel wires that tie them to the ground are there to witness the attempt of the man to fight against the power of the sea.

Pillars on the shore

I just began to process the roll of pictures I've taken two weeks ago. There's a subtle pleasure in doing this job as it allows me to see the subject of my takes from a different perspective. It might sound weird but after walking around, in search for the perfect shot, the moment of post-processing is the first big opportunity that we have to consciously and thoroughly observe our photographs. We don't have all that time when we shoot: we have to trust in our instinct. Point and shoot. And I always ask myself if I took all the pictures I wanted, in the way I wanted.

When I'm home and the photo processing tool is ready, then another question always comes in and stands behind the door: did I really want to take this picture?

(Needless to say, these pictures were NOT taken with my mobile)

How far is the sea?