The human being (or should I say human *?) Needs mountains. The body requires it, it is as necessary to it as the air it breathes. An atavistic necessity. To recover from the tension of everyday life, to be in tune with nature which still today is the best known stress reliever. In the solitude of the mountain, while walking, the person meditates, finds himself, becomes quiet and feels satisfied. A satisfaction not only physical because “The outside of a mountain is good for the inside of a man”. In this period the mountain awakens from the winter torpor: in the air you can hear the smell of the thaw, the noises, muffled by the snow, begin to resonate in the very particular mountain musicality made by the sound of the stream that starts to flow again, from the chatter of the birds, from the rustle of the wind in the branches, from the shattering of ice and snow. The sky shows its most intense colors, enhancing the warmth of the spring sun. This is my mountain. Poetry. Wait. Altruism. Solidarity. If you want it is yours too. Without conditions.