The main objective of cities such as Milan is to believe that underneath it never existed at all, that there was no grass, earthworms, crickets, mushrooms, rivers, land.
Rather, a sort of neutral ground, a platform specially designed to accommodate urban areas. The green one encounters around gives the impression of having been imposed from above with a crane, as the great vessels of asphalt in which to grow trees stuffed. Of course you do not think that Milan has spread around at the park in your house, that urbanization has shunned them for mercy.
None of us is a city, but who would have had to become probably very proud to have finally destroyed nature, earthworms, crickets, the earth beneath our shoes dirty then I cleaned all day, the ants. And it feels so
Milan. Free from the inconveniences of the world as we have been given.
For this reason, it is absolutely inconceivable to any sort of climate change and weather patterns.
The sky, which in most of the land has the advantage of not being built on, not afraid of zoning or late capitalism.
The sky's the dorks, and that Milan is not well. It rains a lot or a little rain, there is the summer heat or air in the mountains, cold or humidity Soviet of Satan, Milan on time are surprised and very quickly try to draw from their stupor of statements parascientific.
Living in this city for 28 years, and if only I had kept a notebook with some notes, I probably would have noticed that in February is always a fucking cold, it rains a lot in June, that sometimes it snows a little 'accident and with the snow that we do not make the bullets, which sooner or later comes a week of awful hot.
Each of these events come to Milan but as it was unique, with an exasperated roar, and soon the ranks and the ranks of the symptoms of an impending climate apocalypse (people at the bar that worried face and says Hollywood "anyway is not normal that makes this hot ") or as a sort of one-off miracle. In the latter category is the big snow falls.
The Snowstorm is every couple of years, but none would be ready to swear, because each of them can boast the legendary memories contours and difficult to place in time. There is talk of serious snow, the one that blocks everything and that triggered sensational battles in front of schools, the snow of a God who tries to tell you something. In one of the biggest snowfalls in Milan in which I participated in, or perhaps in all, we went to the Parco Lambro do bob races down a hill, which look more like an episode of Jackass since almost everyone was completely drunk.
Ecco, il Parco Lambro, quello sì, dà l’idea di un pezzo di mondo schivato dalla città, dribblato per rispetto. Entrateci da Via Feltre, possibilmente di notte, possibilmente non dopo aver visto filmacci sui serial killer che girano per i parchi a caso, e cercate di sfruttare gli alberi e le pendenze – due cose con cui a Milano non si ha mai a che fare. Sugli alberi potete arrampicarvi (io non riesco), per il pendio potete fare i rotoloni o aspettare che nevichi tenendo il bob in mano. Potrebbero volerci un paio d’anni o forse no, ma quando accadrà sarà bellissimo e arriveranno persone gioiose e forse un po’ oblique, convinte che Milano sia sotto un incantesimo.
Quello che il Parco Lambro può offrirvi senza manto bianco vale comunque una visita, possibilmente in una notte ispirata, nebbiosa o disperata (quella nel video era un po' di tutte e tre). Fu il teatro dello storico, discusso, incazzatissimo Festival del Proletariato Giovanile nel 1976, quattro giorni organizzati da Re Nudo, duecentomila persone, mille casini. Oggi, gente che lo attraversa in cuffia pensando sto dimagrendo sto dimagrendo , animali feroci che non si fanno vedere e luci aliene che ti fanno credere che a Milano di notte ci siano dozzine di lune.
Anche quando non ce n’è neanche una.
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