[aesop_audio title=”Il porto” src=”https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/intro_porto2.mp3″ loop=”on” viewstart=”on” viewend=”off” hidden=”on”] [aesop_parallax img=”https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/boa_web.jpg” parallaxbg=”on” caption=”di Egidio Distante e Alessandro Marocchini” captionposition=”bottom-left” lightbox=”on” floater=”on” floatermedia=”Il vecchio Faro” floaterposition=”center” floaterdirection=”up”]
[aesop_content color = "#ffffff" background = "1 ″ ″ position columns =" #333333 = "none"; imgrepeat = "no-repeat" floaterposition = "left" floaterdirection = "up"] The fisherman was melting the hawser from the Bal, so how did for years every morning.
The sun was rising timidly and its dim light was beginning to illuminate the horizon, filled with a cloud cover.
When his boat took off from the seagulls and waves, Francis turned his gaze to the left and watched with a smile that his grandson was fascinated watching the sea.
Francis was a fisherman from Fiumicino, had a gruff character but a big heart.
The moments spent with his granddaughter Aurora were special to him. The most beautiful.
Aurora was not a child anymore, he was 16 years old now and was growing but his grandfather would always be that little girl smiling blond curls and laughing at every joke.
Aurora loved the sea. He loved the way the waves crashing on the hull of the wetting your face, the smell so pungent saltiness that made her wrinkle her nose, the seagulls sang and hovered over his head, the majestic horizon that seemed to never end . He loved to be with his grandfather Francesco.
[/aesop_content] [aesop_parallax img = "https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/pesche-1-di-1_web.jpg" parallaxbg = "on" caption = "A fishing ship off (photo by Egidio distant) captionposition" = "bottom-left" lightbox = "on" floaters = "on" floaterposition = "left" floaterdirection = "up"]
[aesop_content color = "#ffffff" background = "1 ″ ″ position columns =" #333333 = "none"; imgrepeat = "no-repeat" floaterposition = "right" floaterdirection = "up"] That day Francis wanted to go out on the boat with her but already knew it was a fruitful day in terms of catch: some of his colleagues had warned. It wasn't their day.
Then seized the opportunity to be with her granddaughter Aurora and enjoy the sea with her.
It was his life the sea, she loved him and respected him from the depths of his soul.
Francis was leaving the mouth of the Tiber, there where the river and sea meet, where the two forces of nature embrace each other in a clash of currents and where, in a dance violent but beautiful, come together.
Aurora loved that point, the boat was engulfed in waves, danced wildly and she seemed to be on a carousel in the amusement park. As it was nice to see her granddaughter Francesco laughing and joking while the boat danced vigorously in the waves of the sea.
At the end of the mouth that's their right appeared in all its beauty, the old lighthouse, life partner of Francis and of many sailors and fishermen who daily inoltravano to the sea, sometimes impetuous, sometimes calm but always proud of its wild nature and primordial.
Francis pointed to the Lighthouse in Aurora who immediately rushed to the starboard side of the boat and looking out over the parapet, looked curious old lighthouse.
[/aesop_content] [aesop_parallax img=”https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/faro_onda_web1.jpg” parallaxbg=”on” caption=”Il vecchio faro (foto di Egidio Distante)” captionposition=”bottom-left” lightbox=”on” floater=”on” floaterposition =”left” floaterdirection=”up”]
[aesop_content color = "#ffffff" background = "1 ″ ″ position columns =" #333333 = "none"; imgrepeat = "no-repeat" floaterposition = "left" floaterdirection = "up"] How many times Aurora had overtaken the rocks and with his grandfather had risen up over Lighthouse, overlooking its parapet and observing kidnapped the sea, the Earth, the sky and clouds that danced with it.
His grandfather Francesco explained the patient everything: the lunar cycles, the waves of the sea, the inhabitants of the beaches and water, seafaring legends that were handed down for centuries. Aurora remained enraptured, gaping, while his grandfather telling fantastic stories of pirates and mermaids, speakers of seagulls and magical rainbows that united the kingdoms of the land and sea. Francis liked to tell stories and to see the reactions overly surprised granddaughter.
He was old and tired but thanked the sky and the sea for every moment spent with the joy of his life.
[/aesop_content] [aesop_image img = "https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/farolontano.jpg" align = "left" lightbox = "on" caption = "storm on Beacon (photo by Egidio distant)" captionposition = "left"]
It had been several days since her last release with Aurora and Francis had resumed his old life as a fisherman.
Some of his friends, returned from an output of five days, they told him about some huge schools of fish off the coast, huge fish, blue and emerald.
Francis did not want to catch them, it was years since he was retired and was genuinely intrigued by the description of those magnificent fish that the desire to capture them. He just wanted to observe them and maybe draw a new a couple to take her granddaughter to have a nice dinner together.
But the weather was not at all forgiving.
A storm was approaching and many of his colleagues he had been advised not to go out, too dangerous with the dark clouds and threatening.
But Francis was stubborn and felt that as a challenge even more interesting to deal with. His latest venture offshore.
So off the still, dissolved the hawser and began to travel with his boat to the west, towards the open sea.
The wind began to blow harder.
The gulls flew low and loud shouting they walked quickly toward the mainland.
The sea is agitated, he was nervous and the waves were now larger and restless.
It was no longer the placid sea that rocked Francis and his nephew.
He was turning into the monster that swallows everything.
[aesop_audio src = "https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/tempesta.mp3 sec loop =" on "viewstart =" on "viewend =" off "hidden =" on "] [aesop_content color = "#ffffff" background = "1 ″ ″ position columns =" #333333 = "none"; imgrepeat = "no-repeat" floaterposition = "left" floaterdirection = "up"] While the sky samples darkened, the clouds were traveling fast and some Thunder echoed off into the deep, the boat of Francesco was swallowed by the darkness and the sea. He is lost.
From that day, every day Aurora climbed on the rocks, exceeded the inlet of the sea and wood debris and went to the old lighthouse.
Up the stairs and then looked over the parapet scanning the horizon, awaiting the return of his grandfather.
With him also he had an old walkie talkie, had they gave Francis and told him that with that they could keep in touch wherever he was.
Aurora called him every hour.
He tried to get in touch with him.
He screamed the sea and the sky resituirgli her beloved grandfather.
But the sea and the sky were deaf.
Only the old lighthouse was there beside her, keeping her company, gave her comfort and remember the good times spent together until recently.
[/aesop_content] [aesop_parallax img=”https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/signore_web.jpg” parallaxbg=”on” caption=”Il pescatore (foto di Egidio Distante)” captionposition=”bottom-left” lightbox=”on” floater=”on” floaterposition=” left” floaterdirection=”up”]
[aesop_content color=”#ffffff” background=”#333333″ columns=”1″ position=”none” imgrepeat=”no-repeat” floaterposition=”left” floaterdirection=”up”] I giorni passavano e nulla sembrava accadere.
The boats returned. The fishermen were fishing. The sea sang and danced in every wave that broke the rocks.
And Aurora awaited his grandfather from the balcony of the old lighthouse.
[/aesop_content] [aesop_parallax img=”https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/faro_colori_web.jpg” parallaxbg=”on” caption=”Il vecchio Faro al tramonto (foto di Egidio Distante)” captionposition=”bottom-left” lightbox=”on” floater=”on” floaterposition=”left” floaterdirection=”up”]
[aesop_audio src=”https://www.visitfiumicino.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/the-end2.mp3″ loop=”on” viewstart=”on” viewend=”off” hidden=”on”]
[aesop_content color = "#ffffff" background = "1 ″ ″ position columns =" #333333 = "none"; imgrepeat = "no-repeat" floaterposition = "left" floaterdirection = "up"] One afternoon, towards dusk, something happened.
Aurora stared at the horizon and saw something behind a wave, a boat, bobbing calm but resolute toward the river.
It seemed vaguely familiar, felt a tremor in the hands, the heart began to pound louder.
As the boat approached Aurora tried with all their might to figure out who it was. Nervously he shifted from side to side of the balcony, looking in vain for a better place to watch the horizon.
It was late, the sun was setting and many fishermen were back at the dock.
Who could be the lonely wanderer who was sailing to the ground?
Aurora narrowed his eyes, as if he could turn them into a pair of binoculars and tried to look better black spot approaching. Nothing, he could not tell who it was.
Then suddenly the walkie talkie squawked something unintelligible.
Gradually, the sound became cleaner. More regular.
Aurora ran to get the walkie talkie and started to call the mysterious interlocutor.
He did not hear anything.
He tried to call. Nothing.
He was about to try again when he heard again the voice of someone.
Some words were unintelligible, some clear, but the voice, the voice was,
It was his grandfather who called!
He was on the horizon!
After a few minutes the boat approached the shore and Aurora ran at breakneck speed on the rocks at the risk of breaking a bone just to embrace her beloved grandfather.
Francesco ran to him and shook in a long embrace. At last they were together again.
Grandfather and grandson. The old fisherman and the young dreamer.
They went hand in hand up the stairs of the old lighthouse and went out on the balcony.
They stood there for a moment, eyes closed, breathing in the scent of salt air and listening to the sound of the sea.
Then they looked at each other and smiled.
The old lighthouse was there to listen to them as they spoke of the adventure of Francis, in silence. Lonely.
Ancient guardian of the lives that flowed beside him as the river and the sea.
[/aesop_content]
Music by:
– Scarborough Fair
- Power of the instrument
– An Irish Blessing
Photos Egidio Distante
Texts of Alessandro Marocchini
