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The color version of the photo above is here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:

So far there's only been one photo in my gallery that hasn't been taken in my garden ('The Flame Rider', captured in the Maggia Valley: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/53563448847/in/datepo... ) - which makes the image above the second time I've "strayed from the path" (although not very far, since the photo was taken only approximately 500 meters from my house).

Overall, I'll stick to my "only-garden rule", but every once in a while I'll show you a little bit of the landscape around my village, because I think it will give you a better sense of just how fascinating this region is, and also of its history.

The title I chose for the photo may seem cheesy, and it's certainly not very original, but I couldn't think of another one, because it's an honest reflection of what I felt when I took it: a profound sense of peace - although if you make it to the end of this text you'll realize my relationship with that word is a bit more complicated.

I got up early that day; it was a beautiful spring morning, and there was still a bit of mist in the valley below my village which I hoped would make for a few nice mood shots, so I quickly grabbed my camera and went down there before the rising sun could dissolve the magical layer on the scenery.

Most human activity hadn't started yet, and I was engulfed in the sounds of the forest as I was walking the narrow trail along the horse pasture; it seemed every little creature around me wanted to make its presence known to potential mates (or rivals) in a myriad of sounds and voices and noises (in case you're interested, here's a taste of what I usually wake up to in spring, but you best use headphones: www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfoCTqdAVCE )

Strolling through such an idyllic landscape next to grazing horses and surrounded by birdsong and beautiful trees, I guess it's kind of obvious one would feel the way I described above and choose the title I did, but as I looked at the old stone buildings - the cattle shelter you can see in the foreground and the stable further up ahead on the right - I also realized how fortunate I was.

It's hard to imagine now, because Switzerland is one of the wealthiest countries in the world today, but the men and women who had carried these stones and constructed the walls of these buildings were among the poorest in Europe. The hardships the people in some of the remote and little developed valleys in Ticino endured only a few generations ago are unimaginable to most folks living in my country today.

It wasn't uncommon that people had to sell their own kids as child slaves - the girls had to work in factories or in rice fields, the boys as "living chimney brushes" in northern Italy - just because there wasn't enough food to support the whole family through the harsh Ticino winters.

If you wonder why contemporary Swiss historians speak of "slaves" as opposed to child laborers, it's because that's what many of them actually were: auctioned off for a negotiable prize at the local market, once sold, these kids were not payed and in many cases not even fed by their masters (they had to beg for food in the streets or steal it).

Translated from German Wikipedia: ...The Piazza grande in Locarno, where the Locarno Film Festival is held today, was one of the places where orphans, foundlings and children from poor families were auctioned off. The boys were sold as chimney sweeps, the girls ended up in the textile industry, in tobacco processing in Brissago or in the rice fields of Novara, which was also extremely hard work: the girls had to stand bent over in the water for twelve to fourteen hours in all weathers. The last verse of the Italian folk song 'Amore mio non piangere' reads: “Mamma, papà, non piangere, se sono consumata, è stata la risaia che mi ha rovinata” (Mom, dad, don't cry when I'm used up, it was the rice field that destroyed me.)... de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaminfegerkinder

The conditions for the chimney sweeps - usually boys between the age of 8 and 12 (or younger, because they had to be small enough to be able to crawl into the chimneys) - were so catastrophic that many of them didn't survive; they died of starvation, cold or soot in their lungs - as well as of work-related accidents like breaking their necks when they fell, or suffocatig if they got stuck in inside a chimney. This practice of "child slavery" went on as late as the 1950s (there's a very short article in English on the topic here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spazzacamini and a more in depth account for German speakers in this brief clip: www.youtube.com/watch?v=gda8vZp_zsc ).

Now I don't know if the people who built the old stone houses along my path had to sell any of their kids, but looking at the remnants of their (not so distant) era I felt an immense sense of gratitude that I was born at a time of prosperity - and peace - in my region, my country and my home. Because none of it was my doing: it was simple luck that decided when and where I came into this world.

It also made me think of my own family. Both of my grandparents on my father's side grew up in Ticino (they were both born in 1900), but while they eventually left Switzerland's poorest region to live in its richest, the Kanton of Zurich, my grandfather's parents relocated to northern Italy in the 1920s and unfortunately were still there when WWII broke out.

They lost everything during the war, and it was their youngest daughter - whom I only knew as "Zia" which means "aunt" in Italian - who earned a little money to support herself and my great-grandparents by giving piano lessons to high-ranking Nazi officers and their kids (this was towards the end of the war when German forces had occupied Italy).

I never knew that about her; Zia only very rarely spoke of the war, but one time when I visited her when she was already over a 100 years old (she died at close to 104), I asked her how they had managed to survive, and she told me that she went to the local prefecture nearly every day to teach piano. "And on the way there would be the dangling ones" she said, with a shudder.

I didn't get what she meant, so she explained. Visiting the city center where the high ranking military resided meant she had to walk underneath the executed men and women who were hanging from the lantern posts along the road (these executions - often of civilians - were the Germans' retaliations for attacks by the Italian partisans).

I never forgot her words - nor could I shake the look on her face as she re-lived this memory. And I still can't grasp it; my house in Ticino is only 60 meters from the Italian border, and the idea that there was a brutal war going on three houses down the road from where I live now in Zia's lifetime strikes me as completely surreal.

So, back to my title for the photo above. "Peace". It's such a simple, short word, isn't it? And we use it - or its cousin "peaceful" - quite often when we mean nice and quiet or stress-free. But if I'm honest I don't think I know what it means. My grandaunt Zia did, but I can't know. And I honestly hope I never will.

I'm sorry I led you down such a dark road; I usually intend to make people smile with the anecdotes that go with my photos, but this one demanded a different approach (I guess with this latest image I've strayed from the path in more than one sense, and I hope you'll forgive me).

Ticino today is the region with the second highest average life expectancy in Europe (85.2 years), and "The Human Development Index" of 0.961 in 2021 was one of the highest found anywhere in the world, and northern Italy isn't far behind. But my neighbors, many of whom are now in their 90s, remember well it wasn't always so.

That a region so poor it must have felt like purgatory to many of its inhabitants could turn into something as close to paradise on Earth as I can imagine in a person's lifetime should make us all very hopeful. But, and this is the sad part, it also works the other way 'round. And I believe we'd do well to remember that, too.

To all of you - with my usual tardiness but from the bottom of my heart - a happy, healthy, hopeful 2025 and beyond.

Friends make garbage … by The Incurable Optimist

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… good friends take it out

❤️ u both

Make a wish by Mario Ottaviani

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Sony a7rII | Sigma MC-11 | Sigma 35mm f1. 4 DG HSM Art

Make a wish by Matt Machann

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Make It A Double by Rick Del Carmen

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From downtown Burbank, California.

Make Everything Alright by Thomas Hawk

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Critters make haste by Mark Wright

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Swamp Harrier

WTP, Vic

make it by Peter Dekker

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New flowers for Brita's shop by Elena

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When I decided to set up the flower shop for Brita, I didn't know that miniature flowers were so expensive and so difficult to make.

Result? The layout of the shop grows very slowly. -__-

But yesterday I thought: what if I use real flowers? Small dried or fresh flowers taken in the garden?

So here are some new flowers. I like the final effect.

These flowers are not eternal, but I am drawn to the idea of changing them every time I want to take a new photo!

Photobombed 💣💥 by Kent Kruhoeffer

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The Riverside, Phnom Penh

Pigeons at the Riverside are so tame, they will actually eat right out of your hand. The one above just flew in to say hi and to see if my camera was edible. 😁

In the photo above, you're actually looking across The Tonle Sap River, away from the city. A five minute walk from here, The Tonle Sap merges with The Mekong River. This area of Phnom Penh is known as The Riverside, home of The Royal Palace, The National Museum, Wat Ounalom and dozens of cafes, bars, restaurants and hotels.

There is a wide, paved pedestrian sidewalk running along the rivers, which makes it a popular hangout for foreigners and locals alike. Especially after sunset, when it cools off.

Makes me happy! by Moweena Roessingh van Iterson

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The truth as the light by ♥ S.A.S ♥ { The Original }

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makes blind - Without edit !

Make my Bed by Wilga Vagabondgirl

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Facebook | Instagram | AO3 | DeviantArt | 500px

Make new Darners by Lesley Mattuchio

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Why make Sense? by Paul Cowie

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Created for DUC22#18 - Garden /Park structure.

Thanks to Gillian Everett for starter image.

Shadow Frames and PNG Images

Best viewed Large

"Make a wish...!" by Amaya

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make that connection by d0gwalker

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Paddington Station

Make a Wish! by smilla4

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PCL's first birthday.

Maine

Make Green by Lost San Jose

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Make Green. Campbell, CA 2014

Corona makes inventive by claude05

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Fashion house expands its range*

*meanwhile prohibited again

dhreaminq by Nellie 넬리

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make a silly face!

YOU make Magic ... by Andreas Fickl

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... to a better 2026 !!

Make a Wish by Razor Cure

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maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/ELVION/25/43/40

Sneak peek of next exhibition @ Nitroglobus by Dido Haas

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Make a note in your agenda:

Opening party for the Autumn (October-November) 2018 exhibition 'How Isolde got lost' @ Nitroglobus

Thursday, 25 October

Time: 21 hrs Amsterdam time (= 12 pm SLT)

poster made by the artist

Sesión Make Up by Roberto Salgado (fotógrafo)

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DSCF6352_1 by James Soh

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Terra Cotta Park Forest park with hiking & wildlife

Clouds by G. Yancy

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WEBSITE

(C) Gaylon Yancy 2000-2024

Nikon Z8

"we are captive on the carousel of time" by sarah springer.

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From "The Circle Game" by Joni Mitchell

I'm So Pretty. by 20Bunyip10

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The turacos make up the bird family Musophagidae (literally "banana-eaters"), which includes plantain-eaters and go-away-birds. In southern Africa both turacos and go-away-birds are commonly known as loeries. They are semi-zygodactylous – the fourth (outer) toe can be switched back and forth. The second and third toes, which always point forward, are conjoined in some species. Musophagids often have prominent crests and long tails; the turacos are noted for peculiar and unique pigments giving them their bright green and red feathers.

Texture my own.

Make Way by Geraint Evans

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make a handstand and find out that the world is just the same ... by lunaryuna

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another Lofoten islands liquid mirror landscape as there are so many. This scenario felt best in monochrome and I hope you agree.

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