NONNO’S GARDEN © 1999, 2015
Every morning I eat breakfast by the big bay window in my kitchen and watch Nonno work in his giardino. Our yards are joined, back to back, separated only by the prickly raspberry canes that make a very unusual fence.
One summer day, Nonno invites me to pick the cherries that hang heavily from the branches over his garage. “Vieni qui,” he says, motioning with is hands for me to “Come here”. This is the day that I begin helping Nonno in his giardino….
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