is a sweet sensation, like a soft hug, warm and humid.
turin welcomes you to slow in late August, emerged from a long slumber, wrapped its a thick, heavy, and fascinating. is an old woman in the flesh, sweaty but still sexy, watching you with the look of someone who knows so much that you will return again and again to her to seduce you again.
and lie there, the river that is revealed turbid, perfectly calm and quiet, surrounded by the green fields refreshed by the summer storms and the absence, at last, the patter, immersed in a city consumed by a flat light, attenuated from the gray sky that reflects the uniform.
and you look around, watching every minute particular him blankly, as if the moment was destined to grow until the end of September, and runs the day is always the same property as the river front. absorbs you in your meditations, thoughts pass through the spaces in front, pass before your eyes as part of the landscape itself, and would like to leave you even more, so go entire days, afternoons intense.
before you book, tells of vicissitudes distant human stories against the backdrop of Haifa. turin but at the end of August, is magnetic and you uproot from the pages slowly, so, just to make themselves look a bit '.
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