Most people I talk to about my struggle for sustainable development of Motovun are truly puzzled by my obsession. They cannot figure out what is in it for me.

Addendum I (October 30, 2009)

As I usually do, I posted this prose poem on Facebook. Having done this, I looked for a picture that would complement it in a file I keep for that purpose. It did not take me long to choose a black-and-white photograph of Tatanka Yotanka, hunkpapa Dakota—the father or chief of Dakota Indians, otherwise known as the Sitting Bull (c. 1831-1890). A poster with his picture, made in 1885, used to hang right in the middle of my place many years ago. Anyhow, the picture goes perfectly well with the prose poem. Out of the blue, it points a finger at our what-is-in-it-for-me civilization. Would that a photograph of my own face carried so much meaning an entire century from now!

Addendum II (January 21, 2020)

Looking back, my love for Motovun was a mystery to all. Including myself, I dare say. Suspecting that golf and polo development to the west and east of the hilltown were but real-estate scams involving foreign investors and local politicians, I did my best to defend it and its inhabitants. Back then, ulterior motives were farthest from my mind. It was love and love alone. But the inhabitants who were ardently behind golf and polo, and who quickly became my, as it were, political enemies, kept searching for my hidden agenda, for they could not even imagine that there could be none. And I remember one of their inventions to this day: they claimed that I was against golf development in particular because it would spoil the view from my terrace facing west from to the top of the Motovun hill. Wow! And those who were supposedly privy of my secret eagerly informed everyone who would listen to them at the time. Whence this haiku, of course.