In the Venetian lagoon, where wooden dolphins mark the waterways between sandbanks and low clouds and where the depths of silence are interrupted only by the call of a heron or the voices of fishermen, time is not measured as it is in any other place.
Time flows slowly here, like the invisible current that runs through the canals and like the proceeding of bragozzo ( wooden sail boat from the Adriatic sea) that goes back and forth between the islands; it is sweet like the meat of the spider crab and gentle like the chanting of our dialect.
Sublime as the setting of the sun, sweet as the crashing of the waves among the rocks, veiled as the breeze that moves and caresses the leaves. That is what Camoma is and it is here to give excitement through small and big things.
