Mountains arise from the sea and have their roots in the sea.
They are proud of their greatness, of the overhanging walls, of the wild peak
Before climbing to the top, pick up a stone, even a small one, that fragment is a tear ... the tear of the mountain. Rain, wind and old age, over the centuries tear small parts from you that slowly descend towards the valley, bring these tears back to the top, she will be grateful to you.
The mountain teaches you to be determined but humble.
Not to get distracted, because even the slightest mistake can be fatal. When difficulties come, you have to lower your head, grit your teeth, repeat any phrase to give yourself a rhythm, and suddenly the climb that seemed impossible ends I want the ridge, the wind on me, the rain, the cold, tiredness, thirst and hunger.
Voglio il crinale, il vento su di me, la pioggia, il freddo, la stanchezza, la sete e la fame.
I want to get excited, feel my body, I want to belong to nature, to be part of it by right, like an animal, like a plant or a rock. Nature goes beyond life
I walk alone and free, arbiter of my every gesture, master of my time, of my truest essence. My soul absorbs everything, I feel pleasure even for small things, a spring, strawberries, the snow that I eat in bites, the scent of flowers ... In a rediscovered feeling between me and my spirit.
"In memory of Manfredi Salemme, a great mountaineer and a dear friend."
GRONELL
