A bridge of dreams

Among all human works, the most important, before the houses, hospitals and schools, is the bridge.
Because it joins.
There are beautiful bridges and ugly bridges, new bridges and old bridges, entire and broken. There are those of the Devil and also those of dreams.
At Pinasca, on Rio Gran Dubbione, branch of Traversi, there is one wonderful bridge: dreamlike. Made of stone, is arched like those of the Romans, like those of fairy tales, set among the beech to look at himself in the water how beautiful it is, so narrow that you cannot cross each other, over there, the one-way exists without forced obligation. Not to waste.
It is not high in order not to fear – the fear is in nightmares, not in dreams – but however it has a parapet to offer security to those who pass load and tired.
They didn’t put any name on the sign at the bridge of the dreams on Rio of Traversi: maybe because they didn’t find a name that is fine, because you cannot baptize a dream, but only to live it, and perhaps to tell it.
Perhaps Vanessa would be able to tell, Vanessa who picks a little bit of sun on the dry leaves and motionless watches us passing. But she cannot talk …


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