Purely objective descriptions, such as his picture of the Gulf of Spezzia and Porto Venere at the end of the sixth book of the Africa, were rare with him; but, as we have already seen, he admired mountain scenery.  He refers to the hills on the Riviera di Levante as ’hills distinguished by most pleasant wildness and wonderful fertility.’[6]

The scenery of Reggio moved him, as he said,[7] to compose a poem.  He described the storm at Naples in 1343, and the earthquake at Basle.  As we have seen from one of his odes, he delighted in the wide view from mountain heights, and the freedom from the oppression of the air lower down.  In this respect he was one of Rousseau’s forerunners, though his ‘romantic’ feeling was restrained within characteristic limits.  In a letter of April 26, 1335, interesting both as to the period and the personality of the writer, he described to Dionisius da Borgo San Sepolchro the ascent of Mt.  Ventoux near Avignon which he made when he was thirty-two, and greatly enjoyed, though those who were with him did not understand his enjoyment.  When they had laboured through the difficulties of the climb, and saw the clouds below them, he was immensely impressed.  It was in accordance with his love of solitude that lonely mountain tops should attract him, and the letter shows that he fully appreciated both climb and view.

’It was a long day, the air fine.  We enjoyed the advantages of vigour of mind, and strength and agility of body, and everything else essential to those engaged in such an undertaking, and so had no other difficulties to face than those of the region itself.’ ...  ’At first, owing to the unaccustomed quality of the air and the effect of the great sweep of view spread out before me, I stood like one dazed.  I beheld the clouds under our feet, and what I had read of Athos and Olympus seemed less incredible as I myself witnessed the same things from a mountain of less fame.  I turned my eyes towards Italy, whither my heart most inclined.  The Alps, rugged and snow-capped, seemed to rise close by, although they were really at a great distance....  The Bay of Marseilles, the Rhone itself, lay in sight.’

It was a very modern effect of the wide view that ’his whole past life with all its follies rose before his mind; he remembered that ten years ago, that day, he had quitted Bologna a young man, and turned a longing gaze towards his native country:  he opened a book which was then his constant companion, The Confessions of St Augustine, and his eye fell on the passage in the tenth chapter: 

    And men go about and admire lofty mountains and broad seas, and
    roaring torrents and the ocean, and the course of the stars, and
    forget their own selves while doing so.

His brother, to whom he read these words, could not understand why he closed the book and said no more.  His feeling had suddenly changed.