We followed a narrow path along the riverside. In a nearby field, icy water drizzling from the bluegray sky, stood a black horse. Frozen, it seemed.
It’s a cold afternoon in the wintery first week of this new year.
A fallen tree in a nearby forest, surrounded by its mourning brothers.
A village graveyard.
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These are all images made during a short trip to The Ardennes (B). In this foggy, cold winter weather it seemed as if time was not lineair, and we did not live in 2017, at the ultimate edge of this new techno digital era. We stayed close to a watermill that used to get its power from the river Ourthe to saw planks. While the mill itself was no longer in use, the road is called ‘Rue du Moulin’ and you can still see how it must have been, how it must have looked like fifty years ago. Or eighty. Or hundred.
The mill itself is a ruin – we heard that it’s due to be restored this year.
Many people enjoy their summer holidays on a nearby campsite. While the sign at the roadside shows a website address, the picture implies the quit comfort of a pre-digital age.
This year I want to post frequent stories and thoughts around time travelling. I hope with His – and my reader’s – blessings.
