Suddenly, I realized yesterday that I can remember over time, the spring months, depending on the arms of flowers scattered around the house. March begins and ends with magnolias, tulips, hyacinths and sneak including daffodils. April means bat. Wears perfume of peonies.
As never before, I lived spring with more patience, with eyes open and that anything long-awaited, did not disappoint. I enjoyed the warm sunny days (you remember those hot 2-3 days from the end of March?) And afternoons with cold wind, I enjoyed exceedingly heavy noise at night, I was the first who bought a brat full of red peonies (but was disappointed by their lack of scent), I just expected to wear sunglasses, sandals and canvas sneakers. I wish an eternal spring. You will want?
~ My friend brilliant Elena Ferrante
Elena Ferrante is one of the best contemporary Italian writer. It is also the enigmantica: Ferrante is a pseudonym, the author refused to appear in public, grant interviews, create their accounts Facebook or Twitter, revealing details about her personal life. I discovered it about six years ago, when I read “retrieve my days,” her novel heartbreaking, lucid, violent emotional about a female character going through a divorce and dissolution of their identity. I confess that sobbing every page, yet is one of the most moving memorial and read books ever.