Aspromonte, Calabria

The woods close in quickly here. One moment there’s a path, then only trunks, shadow, needles underfoot.

I stop and wait. The light is thin. I look for a sign I recognize. A woodpecker taps somewhere uphill. A squirrel crosses the slope without hesitation.

The quiet thickens, then splits. A zampogna carries through the trees. A tambourine answers, close behind.

I follow the sound between silver firs. The air smells of resin. The music grows steadier, warmer.

The forest opens into a small clearing. Two musicians play a tarantella, laughing between notes. No stage. No crowd.