The personal and poetic story of a hanging garden, almost secret, laid out in the early nineteenth century on the ramparts of the medieval walls of Brescia and now inside an old palazzo. Made in black and white with old medium-format analogue cameras, every image reveals the film that generated it, its often irregular edges, beams of light that leaked into the camera obscura, adjacent frames joined in the same print. It is not a botanical description but a transcription of visual emotions, almost dreamlike, wrapped in a drowsy, shadowy halo, with deep but not violent contrasts, of a special place, sometimes wild, sometimes tamed. The images follow the changing tones, forms and atmospheres of the garden over time, from flowering to a furious snowfall, from afternoons of Mediterranean heat to the surge of plant life, catching the rare mingling of plant and human shadows and embracing the "poetic licences" caused by the errors of old cameras.