Days in the town became long and slow, my dedication 2 philosophy had long since replaced my yearning youth. A past life that I recalled in each of my walks among the olive trees, stopping at every sunset 2 reflecting on what could have been and was not, on what should have happened if I had acted differently.Everything has been resolved with time, and the falling leaves do not revert to the tree. Colors explain the nature of things and over the years I have become gray and wrinkled, like some of d grapes that the workers in the vineyard collect
You don't have to be very perceptive to know that I have a few years left to live and that I can't collect more experiences, my body s old & my heart has so many wounds that it doesn't feel with the passion of yesteryear. And yet I'm calm, and thinking allows me to see things in
perspective, 2 lean on d balustrade that surrounds the patio, and to look towards the horizon when d sun goes down.
This reflective stillness allows me to understand that we travel and grow within a timeless and rhythmic circle, which allows us 2 b part of a larger structure, where those doubts, anxieties, passions, illusions and anguish; they are just a little more substrate 4 d new
vines to keep growing.Age don't forgive, but it always pays its debts, and the inheritance of my lived years will be collected by others, just as the fallen grapes will leave the perfect harvest so that we can continue nourishing ourselv with d blood that wonderful land offers us