That's right: the Valtellina is shaped like a squirrel drawn by a child. And yet I only discovered this when I read this book of poems, which also made me rediscover the pleasure of walking along two paths that had already been much trodden by poetry: love and death.
Through Giuliana Rigamonti's verses I revisited those emotions, as if I had never felt them before, passing through woods, apple orchards, mountains, passes, trees and animals. As if my body were that of a squirrel.
There is no thought, in these poems, that is not immersed and filtered by nature. Everything is regenerated in a new look, not so much through colours, but through sounds (Francesca Bonazzoli).