Day two: after breakfast a walk in the clear countryside air until dusk. In a bamboo forest a dead wild boar in a cage, later an old dog starts following. The mountain has a cross drawn on its side. And stars rained down from the sky at night. Nothing else is happening but everything. I feel old and hidden as this is the sound I hear and the rhythm I feel where I come from, a land somewhere far, behind the hills and seas, like this place.
The image of the mountain with a cross burned into the sensor of my camera as well into my retina. Maybe one day all this will make sense.
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