I was somehow struck by the location, the colours, the strong horizontals, and the abandoned functionalism of the place. Aquasanta Terme (Le Marche, Italy) is an old town with a thermal spa situated in a deep valley. Sulfuric sources stream through the station and end up in the river that meanders through the canyon. The swimming pool is at the higher end of the town, and is accompanied by a slightly dystopian parking area.
Although the thermal spa is still in use, it has abandoned area’s too. Squeezed against the rock, this old building.
Too often I forget that we live only about 5 minutes away from a World Heritage site, the Waddenzee. Summer sunsets are always great. The sun disappears behind the horizon at 335º, which is almost North. The last 40 minutes of daylight throw a glorious and dramatic glow on the salt marsh.
Not only the summers are great, every season and every kind of weather is equally beautiful when you enter this realm of silence. Storm, cold, thick grey winter rains, it makes no difference.
This evening the sun went down in a cloud, with only a subtle glow, no spectacular God-rays or burning orange skies. Still, it was nice.
When you stoop down, and get yourself a bit muddy, and your knees wet, you enter a world of small, but very tough, and very interesting plants that feel quite happy in this salty environment. The low evening sunlight turns the plants into translucent antediluvian creatures.
I quite like these charming miniature landscapes. Discretely dramatic, when you take the trouble to look at it.
Although the weather was a bit sombre and grey today. These European Columbines were aglow with color. The shapes of these flowers is absolutely fascinating. They are like bundles of little wizards’ hats.
An eerie site near Bruneval, Normandy, France. The derelict building heightened the distopic atmosphere of the place.
On a small bookcase next to the desk there is an ever changing landscape of ceramic objects, catching and reflecting the light as the day passes. This photo’s shows the brightly coloured houses on the other side of the street in the late afternoon, the room, facing south, already getting darker, while the opposite side is lit up. It’s a fascinating sight, how the hues develop during the day. Rearranging the objects from time to time has a meditative quality.
A nice October morning. Not much time, but still enough for a quick photo-walk through Père Lachaise cemetery in central Paris. It somehow seemed neater, and cleaner than I remembered. In stead of smouldering heaps of leaves, creating that romantic atmosphere, the cemetery was now filled with work people wearing fluorescent vests, brandishing leaf blowers like machine-guns, creating a tremendous din. Well. The photo’s are silent.