Bucolic life

The olive tree in all its beauty

Another Easter came and another burning question rising from inside: “What we should do?”
The classical italian motto – Christmas with your parents, Easter with you want to- doesn’t seems to work with me, I finally end going on holiday with my parents in all these celebrations. Maybe it is the guiltiness of have left them for three months this year without never returning home.

Two usual destinations: Abruzzo or Salento. This year, as the past, the choice falls on the southern part of Apulia, but in our estate hidden in the middle of the inner Casarano’s farmland. Here it is the bucolic life, and all its good aspects. It would be too easy to praise the beauty of my father’s estate: rustic, modernised only at the minimum, to maintain that spirit that characterised it from its creation, with that tall chimney standing out against the sky with its red.

Too easy, because the first thing we should say thanks in creating such a relaxing atmosphere is the landscape of Salento, recreated perfectly in the small countryside around the estate. So, after leaving the descent past the main gate, here it is oon your right the symbol of all this natural present:the olive tree, giving you from its branch the rounded fruit, origin of the most exported and worldwide-renowned good: the virgin olive oil. And then you see it, that colours explosion, bursting in your eyes from the big bushes: reds, blues, yellows, remembering you that not only the progress has created something extraordinary. And they have been here for millenniums. Strange thoughts for a just-turned 22 years old, maybe this show made also me wise. Who know?

Passing the house there is one of my favourite place: the path between the farmed land with all the flowered arches up your head. Passing there, with music in your ears, makes you forget about every problem, losing myself in a flow of reflections coming inside, while I was losing between these colours and the bitter smells deriving from the terrain-flowers mix. Going on you arrive at the places where benches are placed to make the visitors enjoy their view of the land.

Unluckily, a young man can’t live just for reflections and the warm sun of these day boosts easily your will of sea and suntan, so after a 20 minutes of car trip we reached the other presents the Salento’s nature gave to its inhabitants: the blue sea and the long, plain-sanded beaches, still visited by a small amount of tourists in this sunny late morning of the April’s end.
Only some brave people try to have a contact with the ice-cold water and I’m between these, just for some minutes, maybe this is the main cause for the 38.5° of fever of the next day. Maybe it is the idea of taking the sun for 4 hours in the most damaging part of the day. Maybe it’s the mix of these two, who know?

After all, these days are passed and it’s time to take the points. A post need a final points after all, every piece of writings needs one: first lesson at the London school of Journalism.
So, probably I’m a bad student. because I can’t find one, except the fact that sometimes retiring in a lonely place can be really healing. I’m not talking only of physical pain, but also of everything that is around us: love, personal problems, worries about the future, all the sides that makes this life spicy. In the end who wants a flat life?

I’m sure about that, the more the time will pass, the more problem I will have to forget, the more I will enjoy this piece of land with all its beauty. I’m starting to understand those rich people who in a second decide to leave everything to the charity to start their inner purification path. Welcome to the Salento’s land between trees, welcome to heaven.



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