The land juts out over the water and seeps into the ground. The rivers carry the remains of the mountains, the sea pushes its depths. A place suspended between water, land and sky, floating like clouds fueled by a rising steam, leaving the cracks exposed in the mud. Nothing is only water or only ground: it is the lagoon. Everything is confused and inspiring. The lagoon mixes emotions all the time, time is work that transforms. And man adapts himself to these mutable rhythms, catching the salt on her skin and the sun becomes the colour of the sand. The sunset over the lagoon is never a trivial disappearance of the sun, but is a transormation of colours and sensations. And the horizon has no solution of continuity. But a flock of geese in the air and bursts of noise with their wings. After a day in the pastures of the land retire for the night in the ponds of the nature reserve at the mouth of the Isonzo, the island of Cona. Haven of nature and the soul.