It was a nice weekend in Belluno. In town there were events supporting local industries and businesses. In the park there was a big tent in which they served polenta cooked the old way, in a copper pot over a wood fire. We had a nice lunch on Saturday there.
Today we went back the four of us on our bikes, Giovanni was a little nervous as he's still not that good on the two wheeler. In fact he fell a couple of times. We passed through the park for a while. In the big tent they were still serving the same good local food.
There was one of those two man bands, you know with the recorded accompaniment. A few couples danced to some polka music. They caught my eye, a couple somewhere in their eighties. He was thin and spry, with a lively look as he moved across the asphalt dance floor, she looked somewhat frail but very focused. They moved together in unison, their feet one inside the other, moving and turning in a dance they must have done more than a thousand times before. The music stopped and when it began again they were back, gliding through the room to the lively beat of the Polka in a way that could only be accomplished through years of ups and downs and the understanding that can only come through so many moments together.
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