Out back

It’s taken me nearly four years to get up this track behind the house. In summer it’s unthinkable and winter too slick. My search for porcini was widened. 13000 steps and 80 floors (10ft each) of ascent. I’m also scoping out land for sale that used to belong to our house’s holding - mainly very wild sweet chestnut woods - all a bit scrabble with v steep slopes split by ravines - coppice and abandoned when once the staple of winter peasant food at our altitude of 1500ft. Now the home of boar, deer, black squirrels and plenty jays - called the acorn bird in Italian. And passing wolves.

Slowly I’m beginning to get a sense of the woods, the mosaic baffling quality that makes them seem just a silent place to get lost in, break a leg on steep slope pine cone ball bearings. An 83 year old died just recently collecting mushrooms. Probably not a bad way to go.