Italia at 2000 metres

Cirque d'Aviasco, around 2100 m altitude, up in the Alpi Orobie range north of Brescia and Bergamo. I am slowly watching the world wake up. The stars and blackness give way to deep blue. The first sun hits the tops of the mountains to the west. Marmots start to whistle. My morning wake-up call. Small birds, yellow-winged and browns, flitter here and there. I watch the sun creep down the hillside, closer and closer to us, huddled together under our little, too little, grey tarp. Yesterday we made our way from the Baita (small cabin with hosts that us, serve meals, gave us shelter, cosy beds, wine, coffee and grappa, and wonderful company) Cernello, past a few other lakes, dammed over 80 years ago, along Lago Aviasco and up to this meadow.

Baita Cernello

In the afternoon we settled here, just past the abandoned shepherd hut, among the wildflowers and rivers, under Mt Pradella. Then we watched the sky's fluffy white clouds turn grey, then black. We dove under the tarp as hail pounded down, slid in drifts off the top of the tarp. We heard the rumble of thunder off behind Mt Pradella. we talked of options: waiting for a calm spell and making our way to the rifugio at Lago Nero, staying here, going back to Cernello. My brave adventurous girls wanted to stick it out. We still had hours before sunset, so I kept an eye on the sky.

A little while later there were patches of blue, and Rowan and I went for an explore up the side of Pradella. Patches of snow, beautiful striped stones, perhaps trails or a route up to the peak, or at least to the cirque's ridge. When we came down we saw Tegan in the meadows dancing around in her bright green raincoat and blue polka-dot pajamas.

A long wait for undercooked pasta and then we ducked into bed, reading about Rome, our toes taking a while to warm up. We slowly drifted off to sleep, cozy in our sleeping bags.

climbing the rock gully to the ridge of Mt Pradella

On Pradello, just above Lago Gelato

And now it is morning. A brilliant morning sun rising over the lake. The meadow all in sun, though dew and frost remain. The everpresent song of the stream is just below us, a cool breeze from above. The girls are now awake. A cup of tea. Tegan munching on porridge, questions about bugs from Rowan. We survived a night in the cool alpine, and wake to a cloudless day of blue blue sky. I am pround that my girls are strong, fearless, adventurous, slightly goofy and so full of trust and love. Another glorious day in the Orobie.

lokking down on Lago Aviasco and our
meadow