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Vendaval

 

Spensieratezza, come traduci questo in francese? S-P-E-N-T-E-Z-A no, no! Spensieratezza, le dico  gesticolando come avessi delle nacchere tra le mani. Quando riesci a sorridere delle piccole cose, quando ti rendi conto della stupidità dei problemi a lavoro, assolutalente risolvibili, quando guardi fuori e, anche se ha piovuto tutto il fine settimana, è appena uscito un raggio di sole che ha colorato le facciate dei palazzi di un giallo pallido. Lègéreté, ecco.


L'odore dei caminetti, non lo sentivo da un anno. Non è triste che sia finita l'estate; si apre una stagione da cioccolata calda e castagne, da film sul divano e cenette 'social distanced' tra pochi. Gruppi di nani treenni accompagnati da pazientissime maestre coperte da mascherine e giubbotti fluorescenti vagano per le vie del centro. Sono ricominciate le visite delle scuole ai musei dopo un inverno pandemico durato anche un'estate. E che purtroppo non è ancora finito, ma al quale si sovrappone la natura. 

E l'universo ha deciso che è arrivata l'ora di fare tornare l'autunno. Le foglie al parco cadono, marroni sulla fanghiglia scivolosa di ore, giorni di leggera pioggerella. L'umidità entra nelle ossa ma la pelle d'oca si cura con un tè caldo. 
Vendaval, e questa parola la conosci? Passa anche questo. 
Spensierata legerezza, nonostante tutto.  

Si yo no me conociera

Juraría que estoy algo mal
De una laguna mental
(Mon Laferte, Vendaval)



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