by Tiziano Gaia

It’s official. Starting next year, Italy will have its wine capital. It differs every year, because there are immovable capitals – or almost – and others, instead, that it is right that they alternate, just as men and seasons alternate. And if we think of the seasons, the vine immediately comes to mind, one of the last remaining bulwarks to remind us that in nature everything is born and comes to completion according to season, that interval of time between an equinox and a solstice, in which the earth is it moves away from the sun and then approaches again, in an eternal waltz on the great parquet of the universe.


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