It appears the sky is never silent. Here in the heart of the Dolomites, planes fly overhead at a constant rate leaving their smoking trails behind them. At one point I counted eight that flew passed south west of our apartment, criss-crossing each other. They all look too close for comfort but, no doubt, they are flying at different altitudes. Although scary to watch from afar.

On our way up from Riva del Garda, lorry traffic never stops. A constant flow of heavy goods vehicles plough through the extensive bridges and tunnels. The huge infrastructure makes every piece of land reachable, yet where we stay now is so peaceful and idyllic.

At this time of year, we experience the Ladin way of life as it is meant to be, untouched by tourism life.

The children play excitedly during the school breaks, the local mini market only open at specific hours houses all sorts of goods, each customer is known by first names. Though we, as temporary blow-ins, take them by surprise as we awkwardly review Italian, possibly German labeled groceries. The tourism information is closed—no requirement now. The church bell chimes every hour and echoes throughout the valley. The only other sound is the distant roar of rivers pouring down the mountain among heavy snow.

School is now out. Homework must be done. I hear the sound of a recorder, and later, an accordion being played. From the children’s persistence in practicing their music, it brings back memories of my attempts to play the piano and clarinet. I smile as I recognise a Christmas carol among the tunes.

Though I doubt that these children have younger siblings like I had, who constantly scorned my feeble attempts of playing well, especially on the clarinet. I got disheartened too easily by their bemoans.

So if you are an older or younger sibling, be careful what you say to your kin who attempt to play an instrument. Encouragement will make them go a long way rather than your discouragements.

Although I've still have aspirations to play the piano, maybe one day!