The women of hunters, a glimpse of the life of women who, even just staying at home, share the passion of their men, be they husbands, children, parents.
In the fall, hunting divides men and women into activities that require patience. Certain passions need to be sure of knowing how to play them to find harmony. Autumn brings the crackling of rifles back to the valley, it seems that nothing can be changed in the claim of the genes that hand down the hunt, then the men, after having stacked the wood, leave for the woods. They will find their taste, of course, what intrigues me is how this period is experienced by their women. Whether they are wives, sisters, mothers, they are involved in the exercise of their passion, no one can absolutely refrain from the hustle and bustle of muddy boots, of wet feathers and hairs of game to be cleaned, of washing machines full of wild moods on camouflage overalls, of salmì of interminable days soaking in wine and spices, of solitude in bed before dawn, perhaps even of joy for an indecipherable time in which everything takes on the strong smell of the woods.
From the time of common work in gardens and orchards, autumn becomes a period of division, a humid mixture with the odor of musk, of smoke from barn fireplaces forbidden to women, of heavy breaths of robust wine, of games and snortings of 'excited fire-breathing trigger. It seems easy to give order to the confusion of departures and arrivals improvised by the archetype hunter, women are as magical as men in knowing times of separation and reunion: the real turning point of the mystery of hunting is knowing how to taste the spit without reckoning in your pocket. at that time divided.
(15 October 2013)
Source: ValleSabbiaNews - by Itu