Since then, the view extends over a vast valley that is crossed and unfolds gracefully between the slopes of the forest and whose appearance and quiet love laughing heart. Some streams bordered by willows are lost in the plain without straying too far from each other, is dammed in places, approach and flee when it seems they will be powerful, and, finally, further, are run together. On the right, among the huts of the peasants, are distinguished turrets of a ruined Gothic castle whose wings are spread on a broad platform, and below, the river suddenly leaving behind the hill, as if she had birth and lost a great distance, deep blue of the horizon. The bridge that crosses the distance it resembles a small black crescent on a blue field.

The east begins to be colored in the first dawn of day, everything is doubtful, vague and undefined. The landscape, just outlined, offers nothing but uncertain colors, features confusing and shapes. As the days are up, the mountains are born, receding prospects, plans and feature highlights, flocks of birds of all colors run through the air with all sorts of flights and developments. Soon the hour of work populated the trails and fields. The farmer down the village, the muleteer walking slowly behind the mules and the sheep follow their shepherd. Every hour is approaching testimony of other scenes. Sometimes a single blast of air is enough to change everything. All bow woods, willows whiten their glasses, curly streams appear on the surface and the echoes sigh.