March. The time of pruning olive trees. What emotion.
Even if it is still cold in the morning, the temperatures rise during the day: 14, 15, 16 sometimes 20°. The first birdsongs fills the olive groves and accompanies the “click, click” of the shears.
We spend a long time looking at the olive tree that needs to be pruned. We think about which branches we have to get rid of. We imagine the final cut. Sometimes, we reconsider our decision: leave this or that branch, and think about it again next year. Before pruning the olive tree, you have to imagine how you want it to be in two, three or four years, or even more.
The ladders stand along the winding trunks. The shears get to work. Sometimes we take out the little handsaw. The ground is covered in branches and twigs from which emerges a new tree. When the pruning is completed, we take pride in contemplating the finished work. We are already thinking of the olives that the branches, freed from their dead or useless twigs, will give. We also think of the branches that will sprout during the following spring.
Lunch time comes. We gather some olive branches and light a fire. We prune a few branches on with which we stab sausages that will grill in the smell of olives. We sit down. We cut a large slice of bread on which we put the sausages. Someone uncorks a bottle of Morellino and pours the glasses on the grass.
The fire crackles. The sausages are delicate and fragrant. The bread is soft and tasty. The wine is fresh. We look at the playful patterns of the sun through the trees, in the silvery leaves.
It is magic. And it is the same happiness every year.