The breeze that soothes the heat-stricken spirits compels me to turn my gaze to the horizon where the massive rock, the famous Pietra Bianca, which of its waters is master and icon, enraptures me. The water is as shimmering as the island that welcomes its waves.
The panorama to my left is soaring: the majesty of Punta Imperatore with its lighthouse takes me back to a primitive, rural time of stone and salt, wine and bread. I bathe in the watery, suspended and, by transitive property, impetuous green.
