The Circular Court

The hornbeam in front of us is a monumental specimen and is admired for its age and shape. Perforated and twisted, its trunk evokes the image of embroidery or lace. The hornbeam is widespread throughout Italy, especially in mountainous areas and less so in the plains, where it was once commonly found alongside oaks, ashes, limes, and elms. The hornbeam has a dense crown with smooth, alternate leaves that are slightly serrated and a smooth, ribbed bark which is unmistakable. A unique feature of this tree, making it valuable during the long cold months, is its ability to retain dry leaves on the branches throughout the winter until the buds open in spring. The words of Tonino Guerra seem to invite us to look at this tree, especially at dawn, with fresh eyes: “Rarely can you see true light, the first light of the world's birth. It is a tired radiance, filaments of veiled brightness that pass through trembling shadows, a light that explores the crevices not for its penetrating force, but for its weakness and need to rest, thus igniting the glow of insects slumbering in the crevices. The wonder of seeing these small transparencies with such enthusiasm makes me think, with innocent astonishment, of that initial glow that created the universe.”

The hornbeam in front of us is a monumental specimen and is admired for its age and shape. Perforated and twisted, its trunk evokes the image of embroidery or lace. The hornbeam is widespread throughout Italy, especially in mountainous areas and less so in the plains, where it was once commonly found alongside oaks, ashes, limes, and elms. The hornbeam has a dense crown with smooth, alternate leaves that are slightly serrated and a smooth, ribbed bark which is unmistakable. A unique feature of this tree, making it valuable during the long cold months, is its ability to retain dry leaves on the branches throughout the winter until the buds open in spring. The words of Tonino Guerra seem to invite us to look at this tree, especially at dawn, with fresh eyes: “Rarely can you see true light, the first light of the world’s birth. It is a tired radiance, filaments of veiled brightness that pass through trembling shadows, a light that explores the crevices not for its penetrating force, but for its weakness and need to rest, thus igniting the glow of insects slumbering in the crevices. The wonder of seeing these small transparencies with such enthusiasm makes me think, with innocent astonishment, of that initial glow that created the universe.”