6pm. Challenges of acquiring food when a tourist region went into vacation mode itself. And that's already after having given in to cash being mandatory and non-negotiable. Hunting summer stories in old meadows, while the church clock keeps cautious track of fleeing time.
(Auch: Pfade anderer Touristen kreuzen. Sinnieren über die Tauglichkeit von Kleidung, insbesondere Schuhen. Über das Beige und Braun. Über das Alter der Anderen. Und die Frage, wie sehr einen das Gefühl der Eigenwahrnehmung täuscht.)
10am. Slowly moving, yet once more. Different hills, same as soft. A view filtered by sunglasses, colour of old films. Summertime condensed in hours, in between days of rain.
Noon. Chapel. These bright hours of day again. // 📷 366skies
11am, elsewhere. Of houses left open and rooms remaining unused. Still, there's vague ideas and smells in here of what this place used to be. Trying to place things on a,mental timeline while being again overwhelmed by what might be found.