Country house in Massanzago, Padua

That summer afternoon, my grandmother took my hand and we went to visit my aunt, “in the old house, which as you say has 100 eyes”. When we crossed the gate, under the very tall trees, I saw the house: imposing, with honey-colored walls and windows that shone in the sun, it's always like this those windows seem like eyes that look at me lovingly. As the adults sat in the shade, chatting with cups of tea and biscuits, I asked if I could come in. Auntie smiled at me: “Go ahead, but be careful: the house has memory.” The entrance has an atrium that invites you to sit and reflect or see mythological animals in ancient Palladian, my I must explore! Around, the ajar doors invited me to discover rooms one after the other: the living room with the wooden floor, silent and fragrant, a large eat-in kitchen that smelled of soups and Sundays, and a dining room that was now a comfortable room where the aunt who never wants to take the stairs. I found a tavern with dark beams and shelves full of ancient things: from there, a door led to the garage, but for me it was a secret passage. Then I saw the staircase, with the wrought iron parapet, like that of a castle. Climbing it, it felt like climbing towards a different time. The first floor was filled with light and the scent of wood: four huge rooms, all with antique floors, and a second bathroom with light blue tiles and a shell-shaped tap. A fifth door...but there are four rooms, I had always missed it...come on, I'll open it and find another smaller staircase going up again, towards the attic. Up there, under the roof, light entered through the windows overlooking the garden. The antique plank floor creaked under my feet. I sat on the ground, watching the leaves move outside, and thought: “Here I could build my fort !” When I got off, Grandma told me: “So, did you see everything?” And I smiled: “No, everything is yet to be imagined.”