Pathological phantoms! The state of mind
which engenders and cherishes such illusions is a disease, and it has
been well said that "you cannot refute a disease." You cannot nail
ghosts to the counter.
But a ray of light . . .
XXXII
ASPROMONTE, THE CLOUD-GATHERER
Day was barely dawning when we left Delianuova and began the long and
weary climb up Montalto. Chestnuts gave way to beeches, but the summit
receded ever further from us. And even before reaching the uplands, the
so-called Piano di Carmelia, we encountered a bank of bad weather. A
glance at the map will show that Montalto must be a cloud-gatherer,
drawing to its flanks every wreath of vapour that rises from Ionian and
Tyrrhenian; a west wind was blowing that morning, and thick fogs clung
to the skirts of the peak. We reached the summit (1956 metres) at last,
drenched in an icy bath of rain and sleet, and with fingers so numbed
that we could hardly hold our sticks.
Of the superb view - for such it must be - nothing whatever was to be
seen; we were wrapped in a glacial mist. On the highest point stands a
figure of the Redeemer. It was dragged up in pieces from Delianuova some
seven years ago, but soon injured by frosts; it has lately been
refashioned. The original structure may be due to the same pious
stimulus as that which placed the crosses on Monte Vulture and other
peaks throughout the country - a counterblast to the rationalistic
congress at Rome in 1904, when Giordano Bruno became, for a while, the
hero of the country. This statue does not lack dignity. The Saviour's
regard turns towards Reggio, the capital of the province; and one hand
is upraised in calm and godlike benediction.
Passing through magnificent groves of fir, we descended rapidly into
anothsr climate, into realms of golden sunshine. Among these trees I
espied what has become quite a rare bird in Italy - the common
wood-pigeon. The few that remain have been driven into the most secluded
recesses of the mountains; it was different in the days of Theocritus,
who sang of this amiable fowl when the climate was colder and the
woodlands reached as far as the now barren seashore. To the firs
succeeded long stretches of odorous pines interspersed with
Mediterranean heath (brayere), which here grows to a height of twelve
feet; one thinks of the number of briar pipes that could be cut out of
its knotty roots. A British Vice-Consul at Reggio, Mr. Kerrich, started
this industry about the year 1899; he collected the roots, which were
sawn into blocks and then sent to France and America to be made into
pipes. This Calabrian briar was considered superior to the French kind,
and Mr. Kerrich had large sales on both sides of the Atlantic; his chief
difficulty was want of labour owing to emigration.
