Lake shore

It ends on foot at the shore, just past the osteria. The water is still, the reed bed picks up again, and the Circeo is mirrored with no tablecloth in front of it any more. This is the close of the thread: from the bakery in town you have passed by way of the dune and of the table, and you stay here, on the water. There is no other destination. The shore is enough, because from this point Sabaudia can be read whole, the town behind and the lake in front, in the same afternoon.