Just as crinkled eyes open to the new day, so nature prepares for the new season of light and life.
Take, for example, an ordinary day in May in the Nature Park. You set off along the path from the Acqua Bianca to the Turlo pass, without any ambitions to reach it because there will undoubtedly still be plenty of snow.
The goal of the day, assuming one has to have a goal, is the forest animals.
We walk slowly and lightly, letting the sounds and silences of the forest overpower our steps.
Fifteen minutes from the start, just beyond the fork to the Fum Bitz alp, we find the sleepy male ibexes, who wake up only to rub themselves against the trees or scratch themselves with their sabre-like horns. It is moulting time. Warm weather arrives and a change of clothes is necessary. To facilitate the hair-swapping process, some help is needed, and the antlers are useful not only for fights between males, in order to assert supremacy, but also for this purpose.
Continuing along the mule track that winds its way through the larch forest, after about 20 minutes you come to the alpine meadows where, hidden and sheltered on the 'ledges', the females prepare to give birth. Between the end of May and the beginning of June, it is easy to find the newborns on these slopes being watched over by the mothers looking for a rest.
From here upwards, we are in the territory of the best-known rodent in the Alps.
The marmot that has just emerged from its burrow is preparing for the birth of its young after its long winter hibernation, which began at the end of September/October. We find it on lookout on the rocks, ready to sound the alarm for any intruders approaching. Usually the annoying intruders are us or eagles, but the bearded vulture is no joke either.
It has a lot of things to do apart from guard duty: eat, considering the long fast, give birth and train the young. With a lot of patience and luck, you can attend the mothers' lessons: how to keep watch without getting distracted, sound the alarm in case of danger and hide quickly. Of course, in between the lessons, there are many moments of freedom at the playground.
From here upwards it is a land of chamois, shyer than ibexes (they do not pose for photographs like the previous ones but, at a proper distance, let themselves be watched). At this time they can be found licking the salt from the rocks finally freed from the snow and tasting the first tender grass.
The males, again, move about on their own, leaving the females to look after the recently hatched young. Particularly attentive are the mothers, who look up to the sky with apprehension when the eagle, enemy number one of the newborns, prowls around.
