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"There's enough light, if you're fast", thinks Aaron, as he climbs quickly over the meadows of Muta with a small backpack on his shoulders. "Well, fast and organized".

There is a lot to do in Merano during Autumn. It is because of the apples: this is the moment in which they mature, in which they are picked from the trees and turned into juice, cider, strudel, apple tarts or even eaten just the way they are, something which should not be underestimated: these apples are delicious. "This is also who we are" Aaron tells himself. "Even this, this humble work which is done with your hands, it is part of our culture, of what makes us who we are".

After a day of work, to help his friend Daniel engaged in the harvesting, Aaron has found time for a hike and fly in his home mountains, taking advantage of the last remnants of the day. Down, at the bottom of the valley, the fruit trees unwind into neat lines. "No, I would not want to belong anywhere else", Aaron murmurs to himself, while he flies towards home.


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