It’s like chasing a butterfly. I try to picture this Melloblocco and the memories intermingle with those of year ago. It’s just like in a déjà vù, in something seen before but never really experienced, there’s something that eludes me about the Melloblocco. It’s as if it were a beautiful butterfly which, slowly but unreachable, flutters by. You watch it rest here and there. You gaze at its colours. You accompany it in its evolution. And then, just as it appeared from nowhere, all of a sudden it disappears, it flies away elusively. But you don’t forget it. you can’t forget it. Perhaps because you continue to follow and dream it. Perhaps because you know you’ll see it again, one day. Like those many - certainly more than a thousand - who once again were welcomed by the Val di Mello. Like those countless granite boulders which skinned a thousand fingers, which you caressed with your gaze. Those minor outcrops of the splendid high valley walls which for two intense days experienced the energy and fed energy of the Melloblocco multitude.