He waited for me to finish without saying a word.
Then he asked, “What was that?” “I don’t know.”
His eyes lit up.
“When you don’t know what it is… that’s jazz”.
[Novecento – Alessandro Baricco]
Once again, Querceto revealed itself as the perfect stage I’ve come to know well. Nestled at the foot of Pratomagno, overlooking the Valdarno, this place always offers something magical – even in November.
On this chilly day, with the kind of cold that tingles your cheeks and that soft Winter light washing everything in rose, Sara and Andrea created quiet memories of expectation. They let themselves laugh, lean into each other.
It’s hard to put a name to that feeling.
But it was alive, real, spontaneous.
Just like jazz!
