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“Grass-covered footpaths led me one day to Cennatoio, along with other caravan routes, that is to say those mysterious and perilous Chianti trails one may choose as if picking a tarot card, face down. Still today I would like to call spring or summer those paths facing a horizon where daylight used to smile as if wrapped in a sumptuous shawl made of violets. Thence I always recall a poem verse that for too short a time truly replaced a compass or a map. “You have, in you, the leaves and flowers. All that shines and is sweet to see”.