Carlo Antonio had left, spring was gracing the trees with their first leaves, acid green in the forests, almost pink on the walnut trees of Valàa; Caterina, Anna Maria, and the two girls had accompanied him to the sagrato, the churchyard, where he was to meet his traveling companions. They watched them until they reached the bridge in the Zutt Valley, then they arrived at the Capèla di Salèe, where the road twists and turns into the moraine. From Germany the emigrants had sent a letter addressed to one of their fathers in the village below, a letter they had dictated as a group: everything was going well, they had finally reached the sea, the bastimento, the ship, was going to meet them. A year passed, then two without any news from Carlo Antonio. Pierino was born twenty-six months after his departure, give or take a few days.