Camminare è per me un processo di pensamento, di osservazione e chiarimento.
Ogni stagione si dovrebbero percorrere gli stessi camminamenti per vedere le facce nuove che hanno e la nuova maschera che portano.
In questa stagione è quasi fin troppo facile parlare di foglie, a tratti banale, eppure nonostante il discorso sia trito e ritrito io ci vedo un che di magico.
Cammini e le foglie crocchiano, osservi e attorno a te le gradazioni del giallo e del rosso splendono.
Sarà banale, io lo trovo poetico.
Walking to think
Walking is for me a process of thinking, observing and clarifying.
Every season you should to walk across the same old paths to see the new faces they have and the new mask they wear.
In this season it's almost too easy, and sometimes banal, to talk about leaves, and yet - although the matter is trite - I find something magic in it.
You walk and leaves crunch, you watch and around you the gradations of yellow and red shine.
It may be trite, I find it poetic.
Walking to think
Walking is for me a process of thinking, observing and clarifying.
Every season you should to walk across the same old paths to see the new faces they have and the new mask they wear.
In this season it's almost too easy, and sometimes banal, to talk about leaves, and yet - although the matter is trite - I find something magic in it.
You walk and leaves crunch, you watch and around you the gradations of yellow and red shine.
It may be trite, I find it poetic.
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