A little may mean a lot for some people. Inhabitants of the mountainous Cuce region don’t draw too much out from their dry rocky soil: an arable field hardly room-‐sized, grass (for their cattle) sprouting among the stones, a wil tree to engraft, water appearing from the very rocks, a honey bee colony settled in a tree cavity. But all these little things mean life. Strong and condensed images, all presenting very tough efforts, no words uttered, no music used, compose an ode to the life of man from the arid karsts of Montenegro. Literally and metaphorically it seems the natives need to go uphil and uphill to achieve something, and to reach life.