Scanno Lake
It happened on a winter’s night One dark and stormy night, so the legend goes, a traveller was on his way by donkey-drawn cart to Scanno. In the village of Villalago a family offered him hospitality and (I’m sure of it) a bowl of steaming pasta e fagioli. But in spite of the worsening weather he decided to press on. Who knows, perhaps he was driven by the image of his own cosy hearth and the pale, anxious faces of his wife and small children as they awaited his return. Or maybe he was just one of those stubborn individuals who never realize when they’re on a winning streak....
Thank you for your comment. I appreciate your input, though I reserve the right to disagree. I am not sure…
error in translation leaving this article non quite correct. Happiness is NOT desiring what you have, is the correct translation.…
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