Photography, Travel

This landscape in the French part of Belgium has a strong cinematographic feel for me. Thanks, no doubt, to a number of films I’ve seen that take place in this area. Stories that rarely end well. Uncanny, unheimisch. It’s a place where people go to hide something, themselves or others, secrets or lies, employing activities that can’t bear the light of day. The air was heavy with clouds, the light grey and cold when we arrived. The smell of wood fire and cow dung. Incidentally, the distant sounds of dogs barking and a chainsaw cutting branches from the bare trees. Other than that: quietness. A light rainfall, barely noticable. Soaking mud nevertheless. Bending roads providing an ever changing perspective, unfolding new scenes after every turn. We filled the car with old songs. And for a moment, when the sounds merged with the rhythm of the road, the world felt baffling perfect.








4 thoughts on “Mud”

  1. Anonymous says:

    love this post, the photos are great. they have that even greyness that is sometimes undervalued. my sort of place ;)

  2. J.J. Sommer says:

    The photo with the treeline in the background and the grass in the foreground is unexpectedly intense. It reminds me of when I was a child and was afraid to go into the woods alone, especially in spring when the wind was maddening.

    • I imagine the sounds of the woods can be scary for a child. Must have been nice though, to grow up around trees and forests. I did not, obviously. I didn’t miss it, but I do now, and my view on the subject is a tad too romantic probably : ) Thanks for reading Jason.

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