Le grotte di tufo scavate nel costone del paese sono un’altra faccia del labirinto a scalette, la terza dimensione del paese, quella della profondità. Spesso sono un’appendice delle case a piano terra con la porta che si affaccia alla strada. Forse anche le case sono piccole grotte col soffitto a volte. Riparo e ricovero, di uomini e animali. Mentre fuori nella notte si alza il mistero del pumminale, il cane mannaro, dentro è il rifugio delle fornacelle. Ogni casa, come una piccola Betlemme, ha la sua mangiatoia. Tatacienzo, mio nonno, entrava col mulo in cucina, e con l’avvento della modernità anche col treruote, passava la stanza da letto e scendeva i tre gradini dove si entrava nel ventre della terra.
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