I remember with tenderness the stolen second, seeing just a flash of suntanned and tonic skin of a loved girl behind the veil of a fitting room in a dress shop. Just waiting outside together with other husbands and males, walking among designer clothes and frantic salesgirls, ready to give my opinion on her new robes.

I remember with joy the distant face of an old friend, unexpectedly sighted among thousands passengers on the dirty concrete of a platform.

I remember with pleasure the finding of a lost lucky charm, directly coming from my childhood, among billions odds and ends in my old room.

I remember with emotion the howlings and yelps of my dog, Tracey, when she saw me in distance from the balcony, last week, coming home at Champoluc from Milan.

I remember many sad and beautiful things, too aching to be listed here, brushed for a moment and then lost forever.
Among days of rain, storms, timid sun and clouds, my beloved Alps bestowed me to cast sidelong glances at their hidden, powerful beauty.

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