Saturday we had our art white night. It was cold, so cold. But there was the moon. On Sunday I woke up and the word was really white, once again. I had a trip (I had to), I drove through the hills close to Bologna
I found the path in the silent wood, i guessed it was harder.Thank You Saint Luca, You are still taking care of Us from the top of your hill I dreamt of a warm home, just above the field, at the end of the word.