“Let us sit beneath an olive tree and scrutinize the lines and creases of its trunk recalling faraway mysteries. Let us appreciate, caressing them, its knots, so tight and blunt, so full of laughter, so firm and solid.
There are trees that resemble Man in all his movements, height and gestures.
The olive tree has the face of Man, with its long scars, the shades of its wood and leaves, ranging from green to ashen grey, and we will always find something of ourselves in it. We can see our past and future, the maturity we might achieve and old age, inevitable yet fair”.
From L’Olivo, by Napo Mastrangelo, foreword by Giovanni Arpino, 1982