The ripening of olives on fronds full of leaves that shade the quiet cattle and men escaping the summer heat. Small fruits whose shiny skin reflects the sun rays and attracts the butterflies in love. The wind, which sometimes caresses them and sometimes tempers them with force. The love during the gathering. The milling that transforms them into fragrant gold. The process, then time, then the expectancy. And then the arrival on the table: Sardinian oil.