Anchored to the earth and the sea
I know a place where people smile willingly.
Where hospitality is not a sacrifice.
Even simple people, true and tied to their territory. Hard like stones, or like the squared stones with which they once built dry stone walls, but with a soft heart.
Anchored to the ground or the bottom of the sea, clear and crystalline.
The anchors are laid on the ground next to the Florio plant, a little hidden from the tourist's eye, rusty from the temp, or from salt water and the sun.
But their beauty enchants, a sign of strength, of attachment to the land and to the sea like these Favignana men and women.