Top 11 Natural Monuments around Casarsa Della Delizia

Il Guado di San Pietro, located near Bagnarola, is a place where history blends with the nature of the springs. This ancient crossing on the Versiola canal owes its name to the nearby church of San Pietro, a Romanesque jewel mentioned as early as the 12th century. In the past, the ford represented a fundamental transit point for wayfarers and pilgrims heading to the Abbey of Sesto, offering a safe passage in a territory dominated by water. Today, the area retains a suspended and evocative atmosphere, immersed in lush vegetation of alder and willow trees. The small church, with its fifteenth-century frescoes, testifies to the deep rural spirituality of Friuli. It is an essential stop for those who travel along the nature trails connecting the village to the Mulini di Stalis.

A true gem of a local recreation area with plenty of shady forest and watercourses from the karst springs, with a touch of adventure.

At this point, "dam cycling" is the order of the day. The dam regulates any flooding of the Cellina River and is approximately 5 meters high. The width at the dam is about that of a car and has one or two rutted tracks. Cycling side by side is not recommended due to the risk of slipping, so for me it's an easy, flat single trail. From the dam, there are views to the right and left of the expansive Magredi.

Now, next to the ford, there is a comfortable metal walkway

On the border between Veneto and Friuli Venezia Giulia there is a very beautiful path immersed in nature, which starts from Gruaro and crosses the Versiola river, until reaching the Stalis mills. A historical and naturalistic path in the countryside full of canals and bodies of water.

Beautiful park, well designed and well maintained: meadows, wooded areas and above all waters... streams, irrigation ditches, wooden paths are a beautiful example of how to best use ancient land in a special position.

a nice walk to the resurgences

Venchieredo Fountain "Between Cordovado and Venchieredo, one mile between the two towns, there is a large and clear fountain that also has the voice of containing many cooling and healthy qualities in its water. But the nymph of the fountain did not believe that she only trusted the virtues of water to lure the devotees and surrounded herself with such a beautiful horizon of meadows, woods and sky, and with such a hospitable shade of alders and willows that it is in truth a recess worthy of Virgil's brush this where she liked to place her room. Hidden and meandering paths, the whisper of rivulets, sweet and mossy slopes, nothing is missing all around. It is precisely the mirror of a sorceress, that clear blue water that, gushing insensibly from a bottom of tiny gravel, rose to double in her womb the image of such a picturesque and pastoral scene. They are places that make one think of the inhabitants of Eden before sin; and they also make us think without disgust about sin now that we are no longer inhabitants of Eden. There, therefore, around that fountain, the vague girls of Cordovado, Venchieredo and even Teglio, Fratta, Morsano, Cintello and Bagnarola, and other nearby villages, have used to gather on festive evenings since time immemorial. And they stay there for a long time in songs in laughter in conversations in snacks until the mother, the lover and the moon lead them back home. I did not even want to tell you that young men also compete with girls, because it was already something to imagine. But what I intend to note is that, having made the accounts at the end of the year, I believe and affirm that people come to the Venchieredo fountain more to make love than to drink; and besides, more wine is drunk there than water. You know; in these cases it is necessary to obey the sausages and ham of the snacks more than the superstition of passing water. I for myself there were the beautiful vaults to that enchanting fountain; but once only once did I dare to profane with my hand the virgin crystal of her sap. The hunt had led me there, broken by fatigue and burned with thirst; more, my flask of white wine no longer wanted to cry. If I went back now, maybe I would drink it in large sips as if to rejuvenate myself ... "