Spring is almost over in Giove and everyone is catching up. Everywhere the comune is cleaning the grass skirting the edge of the road with a weed-whacker. Something startles the orange clad and masked workman. Looking non-plussed he has killed a snake. He stares at me shame-facedly, as if to say I didn’t mean to; that is, I don’t want any more bad luck this year. Winter work in June Old men are out cutting down trees and burning the thick foliage, a March task. The grass was