Light in the darkness

"...I will call that "something" that happened ten years ago the "disappearance of fireflies"..." Pier Paolo Pasolini



More than 30 years ago, the Italian poet (and prophet) Pier Paolo Pasolini wrote about the disappearance of fireflies as a famous metaphor of the profound and rapid change underwent by Italy in its economic and social structure. This quick change from a peasant land into an industrial nation happened in the '50s and '60s and was called Italian economic miracle. The reality is that this phaenomenon involved mass exoduses of peasants from Southern Italy toward the industrial centres of the north, class differentiation, chaotic urbanization, air and water pollution and, above all, a sort of cultural genocide, which changed the face of this land and its people for ever.
Now, almost 50 years later, I feel as if we are facing a new "disappearance of fireflies" in this country, and, perhaps, in many others, as well. The same old threats maybe just with a new look. Everyday, as a photographer working on the territory, it hurts to witness among most of people a widespread illegality mixed with an absolute lack of interest toward environmental issues. This absence of any sort of "healthy" relationship between Us and Nature makes easier for speculators and exploiters to encroach up the last patches of wild land. The so called "clean" windfarms of today are like the chemical factories of yesterday. The golf courses, the sky grounds of the past.
Windfarms are, in fact, growing everywhere in the highlands of Italy, and especially on the precious ridges of the Apennines. The golf courses subsititute mountain meadows and old fields. Dump sites and quarries pollute the water and the soil for a long time. Behind their appearance of necessary development and quick economic reward, these are just new ways to sell out the land and destroy what most important has been left to Us: the chance to still live and enjoy the world of our past as our ancentors did.
I still want to drink water from a stream, walk on a mountain ridge with an eagle soaring above me, ride my bike across blooming fields, sit down and look at the fireflies sparkling as darkness comes. These are things I enjoyed since my childhood and cannot see disappear without doing anything. Each of Us must have a place of his own, his "homeland", and to protect it, I guess it is important to live it as much we can; get to know it; understand it and learn to love it. Come on, it's still summer outside!

August - Postcards from Linosa

"To the Sirens first shalt thou come, who beguile all men whosoever comes to them. Whoso in ignorance draws near to them and hears the Sirens' voice, he nevermore returns, that his wife and little children may stand at his side rejoicing, but the Sirens beguile him with their clear-toned song, as they sit in a meadow, and about them is a great heap of bones of mouldering men, and round the bones the skin is shrivelling. " (Homer, Odyssey - Book 12.)





Infant-like screams "gaooh-ak!...gaooh-ak!" calling all around me and thousands of wings flash in the beam of my headlamp as we walk in the darkness. It is a pitch-black night at a large Cory's shearwaters' colony on Linosa, tiny vulcanic island in the very middle of the Mediterranean Sea. On this remote dot of land, Italian soil halfway between the European continent and Africa, these pelagic birds still nest in large numbers in the holes among the black, razor-sharp lavic stones. Spending most of their lives in the open sea, shearwaters come to land just to breed and raise their youngs. It is the second half of July and, each night, protected by an almost complete darkness, the birds come back to their hollows, to exchange postion on the egg with their brooding partner -either male or female, or to feed the chicks that just hatched. As soon as the moon peers behind the sleepy volcanoes or the sun start to rises, this frenzy of wings and loud calls ends almost immediately and the elegant silhouettes of the sheawaters glide toward the immensity of the sea.

Where do they go during the day? How long do they stay away from their youngs? Where do they look for prey?

All questions, these, to which keen ornithologists, with the aid of most developed technologies, try to find answers in order to know more about this elusive species and help its conservation. I've spent about one week with one of these dedicated people -the friend and extraordinary field researcher Jacopo Cecere, who lived almost five months on Linosa surveying, observing, handling, measuring and ringing dozen of birds each night. Anytime he can put hands on a new bird, this would get a tiny, highly sophisticated and very expensive device -either a micro GPS satellitar transmitter or compass. With a bit of luck, once the bird would get caught a second time, at the entrance of its nest for example, the data collected by this instruments will tell Jacopo a lot about the life of the animal during its wanderings.

I have followed Jacopo every night on the rugged lava fields, wearing trekking shoes, kee-pads and elbow protections, to watch his work and portray the birds, crawling into warm and stinky hollows to photograph their nests (Thank you, Paulo! For your help, your ideas and...your second flash!;-)). But I have also managed to explore everyday the harsh, yet charming nature of the island, with its walls of black stones and cacti, which conceals lushy gardens and plants of delicious capers. Meet the hospital and proud people who live there. Observe the five colours of the Cala Pozzolana at sunset, glimpse smooth Ocellated skinks and the ubiquitous Maltese wall lizards in the bushes. Be on a boat among dolphins, with camera in one hand and white wine in the other...Eat great meals every single day and swim in clear waters so rich of life as I've never seen elsewhere in the Mediterranean.

Oh, how much I love this job! ;-)

June/July - Cooling off

"...I have never questioned the route this journey took: it seems a single trip, the sole option, driven by that same potency that drew me into grizzly country in the beginning." (Doug Peacock)





Weeks have gone fast by since my last post on this blog. I have driven really many kilometers during this time, with my sixth trip to Tichà and a quite big event in my life: after four years in Berlin, I've moved back to Italy -Abruzzo, in the shadow of my beloved mountains. Coming straight from Central Europe and the high peaks of the Tatras to the sunburned center of Italy, can't deny now a certain need for cooling off and spending some time indoor to sort out books from the boxes and images from my hard drive...

I've spent three full weeks in the wilderness of Tichà this time. Long days of June, with their scary (and almost daily) thunder storms which give a beautiful light to the mountains, and really many wildlife sightings. My main target were bears, of course, with yearling cubs, red deers in the alpine meadows and landscapes. Despite big efforts and several bear observations (up to ten animals per day), we had only one cub from this year and mostly families we already knew from 2007. We watched several times cubs playing in the snow and we even had a very interesting 2 years-old cub still nursed by its mother. All this, though, only for a few days, before the rising temperatures, the long photoperiod and the unrelenting flies forced the animals back into the darkness of the forest. Moreover (and despite my 960mm-equivalent lens and very careful stalking) the distances with the animals were always a bit too far for any close-up shot. I must say it is very frustrating to film bears side-to-side with my friends and their HDV camcorder and 2800mm-equivalent lens...You take the environmental shot and cheer, then give a look to their video in the small display and see a super sharp, full-frame bear cub looking straight into your eyes...Mmm, don't know how I will afford it, but now I definitely feel the urge to buy a 500mm...Has anyone there maybe one for me? ;-)