The Spaces Between Your Fingers

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This story comes from my father who had lived in Italy after graduating college.  His cousin’s good friend Salvatore, owned a hazelnut farm that my father would work on.  I had the old polaroid saved from back home and was always curious about the context behind it.

Salvatore brought the stallion from the stables.  Through the gate the large white stallion trotted up next to him.  I was reminded of the horses I rode in university for that extracurricular credit.  This one was larger and saddleless. Salvatore motioned for me to approach the horse.  


“il suo nome è Bianco”

The name of the horse was Bianco, or white in italian.  Rightly so, the horse seemed to almost reflect the bright summer sun like fresh snow.  I approached the horse with little hesitation.  Sal

seemed to be very comfortable next to it, so I trusted his instinct.  


“Oggi lavoriamo sul campo nocciola!”

Salvatore’s family owned Hazelnut fields in Biano.  Today I just happen to be working alongside Bianco and him.  

Sal held the reins and helped me climb the horse.  Bianco side-stepped to the right of Sal, nearly causing me to fall, but I caught my balance.  I had never rode without a saddle before so I had to keep my balance and my grip taught.  

Sal walked off into the stables.  He came back out dragging a two-wheeled wooden carriage behind him.  Sal attached the carriage to Bianco.  The horse didn’t even flinch at the harnesses being attached to him.  I pulled at the reins and motioned for Bianco to move forward.  Sal pointed down the hill at the large hazelnut fields.  The sun was just now rising past the rolling hills, and now it was time to get to work.

I Campi Di Nocciole (The Hazelnut Fields)

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