Cinghiale (Wild Boar) “Leftovers”

 

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Beautiful artichokes growing outside Castelnuovo Berardegna

Admittedly, I have a fondness for the Cinghiale (wild boar) and when I am fortunate enough to get a brief glimpse of this nocturnal and ferocious warrior, I feel in touch with the wilds of Tuscany.

“He who conquers himself is the mightiest warrior.” Confucius

After arriving in Tuscany this past spring,  I saw only one lone Cinghiale at dust. A young male, whose dark grey bristled derierre or “perk behind” as I like to call it, had been flashed in my direction on multiple occasions while escaping into the olive grove. 

Laughing out loud I knew this was not meant as a personal slight, the Cinghiale would never know how much joy his “gesture” had brought me. Plus given mating season is from November to January, I had no concerns regarding his intentions! 

The previous night the Cinghiale (wild boar) literally tore up the ground surrounding the ancient olive trees which stand witness to the beautiful lands of Arceno. 

If it had not been for the mesh netting Sergio had placed at the bottom of the hand-made chestnut fence, the yard would be a huge pile of dirt leaving behind only, “Cinghiale leftovers“.

The upheaval of the ground, was the result of the wild boar looking for their beloved grubs,  an edible omnivore delicacy which results in a Cinghiale feeding frenzy, using their long rubbery and strong snouts as gardening tools. 

The Cinghiale during their ravenous late night “snack attack” had left behind their “signature holes”, deep enough to bury my head in; perhaps I’ll save that for another day.

 

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“Cinghiale Leftovers”

 

I could see the imprints of their small hooves which seemed out of proportion to the girth of their upper thighs and bodies.

The distinct outline of their perfect snouts was notable, perhaps the Cinghiale leaving mother earth a “wild boar” tattoo? I trust the sharp jabs from their tusks were not appreciated. 

All this mayhem occurred as we slept, without us hearing so much as a murmured “grunt” or “snort”.

“What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say.”- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Salute,

Carolyn

 

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