It has been almost five years since I started to change world hemisphere quite often. This brought me to experience the same season in different places around the world. It’s interesting to consider similarities and differences of the manifestation of the same phenomenon depending on where it’s happening. Where I grew up, in the North of Italy, seasons are remarkably distinguished: summers are sunny and hot; autumns are rainy and sunny, temperatures drop and the days are shorter; during wintertime there’s a lot of snow and it’s very cold; in spring the sun is brighter and the temperatures are pleasant. Nature is the main demonstration of this spontaneous change and its beauty is stunning.
In these past months I have contemplated particularly the times of the year in the various parts I have been. One is sure and obvious: in the city it’s more difficult to appreciate the season alternations.
Last autumn I had the opportunity to live in my grandparent’s mountain-house. From its royal balcony the horizon consists of the peaks of the Dolomites; at their feet the valleys open out and close to the house, the woods extend. I had forgotten the colours of autumn and their deepness. The smell of the forest and the sight of the falling leaves were cosy and at the same time melancholic.
When I arrived in the Argentinian summer, the time I had spent contemplating during the Italian autumn awarded me with great enthusiasm towards the projects I had planned. I embraced the warmth with gratitude. The mountains outside Còrdoba were as shiny as stars. Climbing on those red rocks with the sun perpendicular on the head was like being in the middle of the earth. At that moment I gained a lot of strength and I challenged myself. What I learnt during that summer was that my head often limits my body.
Then it was like a confusing dream and I travelled trough seasons and time, from the South hemisphere to the North. There it was supposed to be spring but no sign of it: rain and clouds didn’t give space to blooming flowers. From Italy I drove to Norway which after four years feels a little bit like home. I’m here now and even tough it’s cold, the sun appears and the birds tweet, people work in the gardens to bring them back to life after the winter. This is my favorite season thanks to its positive effects.
At the same time the mountains are covered with snow and it’s possible to enjoy some ski mountaineering. When I went the other day I had the feeling of being between two seasons that existed at the same time. On the one hand the snow, quiet and white on the other the awakening of water, plants, animals and even roads. And in that moment I thought about this journey through the seasons.
I’ve skipped winter in any part of the world for some years. I don’t know if it means something, it’s just strange to miss the season that lasts longest, the season of the torpor. I don’t know when and where I will be experiencing another winter. I will wait for its majesty and in the meanwhile the Norwegian mountains will partly recall me of some of the winter perceptions I have.