The Sacred Mountain

August 2026 — We’re taking a break for the summer, a real break. An escape to the Italian Alps, in Val D’Aosta. The little town we’re staying in is called Champorcher.

Here life is slow, very slow. And it’s perfect.

We hike the mountains, we walk in the forests, we rest by the rivers. We feel our minds to be loose and free, our bodies tired but relaxed. The water is clear, the smell of the pine trees is pure, the birds sing the perfect concert for us.

Eventually, after a bright day of sun, a night storm approaches the valley. The sound of the raindrops and the roar of the thunder take over the scene. It closes the day, everyone can now stay in their homes. Our sleep is sacred now.

All days here are simple but special.

Each day we go hiking with our dog Lula. She’s very fast and loves to explore all the surroundings while we’re still slow climbing. We’re not experts.

Some trails are really challenging, others a bit easier, but in both ways it’s good to test our bodies and our strength. We feel the heart pumping in our chest, our legs shaking, but the goal is stronger than that. Reaching the top. Getting to the refuge. Having the best view and the fresh air.

We have crickets jumping around us, colourful flowers, a black and orange butterfly showing us the path. The trees give us rest under their shadow, the rocks give us a chance to take safer steps. We encounter a lot of wild animals: cows, goats, birds, a marmot, an eagle, horses, and happy humans.

Our ego here is nothing. We’re just tiny little dots in the vastness of the mountain. And nature is very good at reminding us that.

My wife is doing her collages, designing some flowers, and I’m making the dinner. Risotto with Porcini mushrooms that we just bought at the market, and a cheese made from cows from “Alpeggio” (Alpine pasture). The risotto is almost ready, one rule that my grandma taught me is: make it rest for five minutes, and then “manteca” it (I think the correct word in English is “to emulsify”) with butter and cheese. And a drizzle of olive oil.

We finish with a typical bread from this region, made of figs and chestnuts, and a piece of another fresh cheese. We go out for the last walk with our dog around the village, the sun is almost gone, the mountains are still there. They won’t move. A good book or a fun movie from the early 2000s is our company for the rest of the evening. Another day is gone, forever.

That was just one of the simple moments from our days here.

While my wife is very inspired and active with her art, I tried to do a few drawings in my sketchbook. But I soon realised that nothing was coming out. So, after the first and only sketch, I gave up. It’s ok, I’m tired, and I don’t wanna push for something that is not natural. Someone says that creatives need to rest and do nothing sometimes. That’s exactly what I’m here for.

Here life is slow, very slow. And it was everything we needed.

Ciao,
Loris