was necessary to seize, without thinking too much, the chance of these flashes of summer already waning moon and take at the chance offered by these hot days of August in the sky, without thinking too much, in fact. So here we are just in time to relive the excitement of the sunset from the ridge of the Madonna del Pollino, where they begin the path of the rocks, now illuminated in red: a race with old friends to meet the last warm evenings of August and summer coming to an end, even this night seemed to be destined to the world of dreams as happens when a series of commitments and setbacks force you to slave rimanre the city where you live, but this time a bit 'of stubbornness and sound belief we do find, at 1500 meters or so, waiting for the sunset and some other friends that disengaged from work after the party winds and later for us: to 22.30 or so just after we walked with the moon already white, luminous and high horizon. The valleys below us seem almost sealed by a blanket of muggy up here that shines like a magic blanket under the last rays of sun. We finally this year it's time to be "out of everything" and there is moving: how meta is fixed Serra of Ciavole where you can see the sunrise with eyes ranging between sea and mountains.
The earth is warm as the air around us: thin gusts of wind almost burned from the summer heat We caress the body and soul while the moon is always visible in the woods among the leaves of beech trees: the march continues and sent Alexander, who so wanted this excursion into the night, it moves fast and without a murmur, like an adult expert: from only carries his backpack, his sleeping bag and its necessary equipment for mountain and for the night.
In less than an hour through the woods and we Fosso Iannace "Plan of Grilli," Morano as they say: here are some hikers have camped in their tents and sleep in their sacks. The moon lights up the Serra di Crispo and "Thief of Timpa" shines with its rocks, we are caught in a from the "rice" of one or more foxes: Franco points out how this feature distinguishes the verse over the sound of foxes but no meeting despite the fronts are substantially off the moon is a beacon to guide our steps and it is sufficient to way.
We now turn to quench our thirst pitt 'accurc' (I have not yet figured out exactly what the name indicates) are always fresh and abundant water although the soil is very dry: after midnight in the arms of Zu Peppu (always like to put Morano), white ghost in the night we first receive a camp a few hours, those few hours that separate us from dawn and the desire to review yet another sunrise on the peaks.
I tarry a little 'respect for others to slip into the sleeping bag: the wind is beginning to thin a bit' cooler but I want to fix the moments trying with little success, some photos in the moonlight. But I lay staring at the stars, but I do not know any constellation in the stars like to watch my thoughts, try to decant in the serene mountain. The cows are a bit 'lower rang, and still struggling to get sleep so I am thinking of those who could or wanted to be here tonight and that a number of unexpected problems have prevented, I think those who are now to exit groped a refuge for some long-awaited summit, I think those who have never breathed these feelings and continue to be a slave to unhealthy habits nell'afa cities. I reflect and think this gives me a relief as I rejoice to be found here again, as every year with old friends, to experience emotions that I can not hear in other places more comfortable or just more in keeping with contemporary life.
The effort that creates the mountain, the sensations in the breath, nellle legs and body in general are a source of pride and positive feelings for us and we exploit this opportunity to feel part of creation.
I wake up in the words of one who draws the alarm so that the dawn is drawing near, I just Pasate 4:30 and we begin to mettreci in motion: all is quiet on the shoulder and west of the Serra Ciavole cross backpack behind the realm of loricati: I, Ale and Nicola we linger a few feet further down with slower pace, while Rocco, Franco and Enzo are a bit 'higher; the last meters are a little' hard to Alessandro even somewhat 'sleepy says his, but the appearance of the first light on the crest are new to sap enthusiasm we have, we covered ridge and fixed to the best of a few hearty gust of cold wind, but we are so happy to be here to watch the colors of dawn and enjoy the landscape marked by the thin line that divides the land from the sea. The coast is perfectly visible, there is no haze in the East and the Gulf of Taranto to beyond the Plain of Sybaris everything is under our eyes as the sun slowly rises, leaving the sea.
Our silences are broken by small observations and curiosity, the sun has risen and now an inevitable group photo with timer and seals this day marks the beginning of the descent: within half an 'now we're back and we all agree the plans for a nap in the sun that is invading the lawn of Garden of the Gods, comfortable bed and hot as ever today for our bodies sleepy.
After a while 'someone moves to photograph the impossible: Dersu magician so, never subdued, and Alex is moving to hear the singing of birds away from wild boars who sleep on the grass!
Fantastic this mountain, this nature, our earth: the lives gave us little things with great serenity, a sunset, clouds that seem seas, family crests and bright: this' year round off the summer with the summer night: I am happy about the startup steps back, hoping to relive it again this mountain, like today, beyond the sunset.
