Venice is literally another town when tourists are few and the winter season sets in. Cold and mist cover the city with a magic, unpredictable mantle spreading melancholic nuances all around. Walking along the canals leads to a dreamy world, disclosing glimpses no word can describe. What the passerby sees is no more anchored, it's liquid: Venice reveals itself to be Neverland.
During this time of the year the town shows its uniqueness completely, because voices and rumors are now softened allowing the arcane musicality of plashes and the echoes of the past to be heard, while the lack of mundane events awakens in everyday's life the centuries-old initiative of Venice' people.
Maybe just a poet who loves to hide himself succeeded in getting near the essence of Venice in winter, because his verses sounds like sketches on a canvas, rare photos where the light is nothing but dissolving mist.
"Venice by winter is boring and forgettable for those who think, but it will stay forever in the heart of those who love". (Alessandro Carletti)