Far Below Were Lights From Villages In
The Valley Of The Dora.
Above us rose the mountains, bathed in
shadow, or glittering in the moonbeams, and there came from them
the pleasant murmuring of streamlets that had been swollen by the
storm.
Next morning the sky was cloudless and the air invigorating. S.
Ambrogio, at the foot of the mountain, must be some 800 feet above
the sea, and San Pietro about 1500 feet above S. Ambrogio. The
sanctuary at the top of the mountain is 2800 feet above the sea-
level, or about 500 feet above San Pietro. A situation more
delightful than that of San Pietro it is impossible to conceive.
It contains some 200 inhabitants, and lies on a ledge of level
land, which is, of course, covered with the most beautifully green
grass, and in spring carpeted with wild-flowers; great broad-leaved
chestnuts rise from out the meadows, and beneath their shade are
strewn masses of sober mulberry-coloured rock; but above all these
rises the great feature of the place, from which, when it is in
sight, the eyes can hardly be diverted, - I mean the sanctuary of S.
Michele itself.
A sketch gives but little idea of the place. In nature it appears
as one of those fascinating things like the smoke from Vesuvius, or
the town on the Sacro Monte at Varese, which take possession of one
to the exclusion of all else, as long as they are in sight. From
each point of view it becomes more and more striking. Climbing up
to it from San Pietro and getting at last nearly on a level with
the lower parts of the building, or again keeping to a pathway
along the side of the mountain towards Avigliana, it will come as
on the following page.
[At this point there is a picture in the book]
There is a very beautiful view from near the spot where the first
of these sketches is taken. We are then on the very ridge or crest
of the mountain, and look down on the one hand upon the valley of
the Dora going up to Susa, with the glaciers of the Mont Cenis in
the background, and on the other upon the plains near Turin, with
the colline bounding the horizon. Immediately beneath is seen the
glaring white straight line of the old Mont Cenis road, looking
much more important than the dingy narrow little strip of railroad
that has superseded it. The trains that pass along the line look
no bigger than caterpillars, but even at this distance they make a
great roar. If the path from which the second view is taken is
followed for a quarter of an hour or so, another no less beautiful
point is reached from which one can look down upon the two small
lakes of Avigliana. These lakes supply Turin with water, and, I
may add, with the best water that I know of as supplied to any
town.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 38 of 145
Words from 19346 to 19846
of 75076
