Discover the world of
the Sporting Residence Asiago
"At the edge of the wood, wary as a wild animal waiting for dusk before emerging into the open, he gazed at his hamlet, and over the wide stretch of meadows the town below it. Fragrant wood smoke dissolved in the pink and violet sky where flocks of crows flew, cawing to one other.
On the roof of his house was a tree: a wild cherry tree. The seed from which it had grown had landed up there when a redwing expelled it in flight many years before, and spring-time conditions had made it sprout because his grandfather, to protect the house from rain and snow, had spread extra thatch on the roof so that underneath it had become humus and almost sod. Thus the cherry tree had grown.
Tönle Bintarn, as he gazed, recalled how as a boy, after the rye harvest, he would climb up from the side of the stable where the wide roof almost met the slope of the mountain, and one by one pick all the sweet, black little cherries before the blackbirds and thrushes came with their beaks: they were like honey, and for days the juice stains stayed on his hands and around his mouth, and the water from the Prunnele stream wasn’t enough to remove it. But in the fall the pale red of the leaves could be seen even from the top of the Moor, like an oriflamme that ennobled the humble house and distinguished it from the others.
("The Story of Tönle”, by Mario Rigoni Stern)