[ITA] Questa ero io da bambina, con il mio albero preferito: un bellissimo liquidambar che d'autunno si tinge di meravigliosi colori.
Ho sempre amato la natura, le foglie e i fiori e non ho mai smesso di rimanere incantata di fronte alla maestosità delle chiome degli alberi. Fin da bambina, dopo ogni passeggiata autunnale, mia madre doveva svuotarmi le tasche dalle foglie, castagne, lumache e sassi che raccoglievo e che volevo tenere come piccolo tesoro nella mia cameretta. Ancora oggi mi capita di ritrovare foglie e fiori secchi in mezzo a libri e agende, messi lì da una me più piccola, che sperava di tenerli con sé per sempre.
Complici di questa passione sono stati l'aver sempre vissuto in un paesino di campagna e aver passato gran parte della mia infanzia con la nonna, che non a caso si chiama Flora. D'estate mi occupava le giornate con l'annaffiatoio e tanti racconti sulle piante e i fiori con cui riempiva la sua casa, mi permetteva di camminare scalza nella terra del suo orto, insieme piantavamo i semi, controllavamo di giorno in giorno quante foglie in più erano spuntate dalle nostre piantine e ne raccoglievamo i frutti.
Uno dei miei piccoli-grandi sogni è quello di avere, un giorno, un pezzettino di terra in cui piantare i miei alberi preferiti e di avere abbastanza tempo per stare a guardare le foglie cadere.
[ENG] This is me, when I was a child, with my favourite tree: a beautiful liquidambar that turns into wonderful colors in autumn. I have always loved nature, leaves and flowers and I am still enchanted by the majesty of the foliage. When I was a child, after each autumnal walk, my mother had to empty my pockets from all the leaves, chestnuts, snails and stones I wanted to bring home and save in my room as a treasure. I sometimes find dried leaves and flowers in books and diaries, put there by a younger me, who wished to take them with her forever.
This passion was born because I have lived my entire life in a country village and especially because I spent most of my childhood with my grandmother - it's not by chance that her name is Flora.
During the summer, we used to spend our days watering her plants and flowers, which filled her house, she told me stories about them, she let me walk barefoot on the soil of her vegetable garden, we planted seeds together, everyday we counted the new leaves on our plants and we picked up the fruits.
One of my little-big dream is to have, one day, a garden, where I can plant my favourite trees, and to have time to watch the leaves fall down.
This passion was born because I have lived my entire life in a country village and especially because I spent most of my childhood with my grandmother - it's not by chance that her name is Flora.
During the summer, we used to spend our days watering her plants and flowers, which filled her house, she told me stories about them, she let me walk barefoot on the soil of her vegetable garden, we planted seeds together, everyday we counted the new leaves on our plants and we picked up the fruits.
One of my little-big dream is to have, one day, a garden, where I can plant my favourite trees, and to have time to watch the leaves fall down.
Nel frattempo, metto le mani in pasta e cerco di imitare la bellezza della Natura!
In the meanwhile, I take my clays and I try to reproduce the beauty of Nature!
That way look, my Infant, lo!
What a pretty baby-show!
See the kitten on the wall,
sporting with the leaves that fall,
withered leaves---one---two---and three
from the lofty elder-tree!
Through the calm and frosty air
of this morning bright and fair,
eddying round and round they sink
softly, slowly: one might think,
from the motions that are made,
every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or Faery hither tending,
to this lower world descending,
each invisible and mute,
in his wavering parachute.
(...)
William Wordsworth - The kitten and falling leaves
What a pretty baby-show!
See the kitten on the wall,
sporting with the leaves that fall,
withered leaves---one---two---and three
from the lofty elder-tree!
Through the calm and frosty air
of this morning bright and fair,
eddying round and round they sink
softly, slowly: one might think,
from the motions that are made,
every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or Faery hither tending,
to this lower world descending,
each invisible and mute,
in his wavering parachute.
(...)
William Wordsworth - The kitten and falling leaves
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