Cold Hands Warm Heart

A motorcyclist pulls up to 93 Roncole di Gotra. He tosses his helmet to the side of the stairs and speaks to Iris in front of the wooden entryway. He stays for dinner. At home, he has flightless ducks that eat snails and like to be thrown up in the air. We enjoy his company.

A life student of ancient knowledge purchases organic meat at Agricoltura Biologica Casa Lanzarotti. Iris wraps his goods on the wooden dining room table. He stays for dinner. With wit and humor, he assists Maria with her math homework by relating it to a symphony described in equations. We enjoy his company.

--

Georg - a hard working German - journeys with his motorcycle and camper through Italy. He offsets travel expenses by wwoof-ing in exchange for a meal and a hot shower.

“What brought you to Albareto?” I ask Georg before he tills the greenhouse.

“It is winter in my home and it is spring here.”

--

Boris - a Roncole resident - spends quiet moments in meditation and spiritual pursuit. He looks after his grandmother who lives across the street. For the two of them, he procures provisions locally: milk from Ezzio’s, eggs from a neighbor, and beef from Iris.

“What brought you to Albareto?” we ask Boris over our dinner bowl of minestrone.

“It was winter in my soul” he responds.

“And is it spring now?”

“Yes. Yes. Spring is coming.”

--

I am thus grateful to winter; if the cold were not felt by such sympathetic people, we would have missed being present to their warmth.