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Insects
Hugo Lioret
50°53'01.2"N 6°34'06.8"E
Calming rhythm as the wind blows.
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Frogs and Owl
Hugo Lioret
50°53'01.8"N 6°34'16.2"E
Nightfall has never seemed so indescribably mysterious to me.
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Birds (morning)
Hugo Lioret
50°52'42.2"N 6°33'04.8"E
However, things seem clear here.
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Birds + low roaming
Hugo Lioret
50°52'46.4"N 6°33'20.6"E
The bird's song indicates where I am not. I hold my breath and my steps.
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Forest + squirrel + powered paraglider (dawn)
Ida Hiršenfelder
50°53'04.8"N 6°34'16.5"E
What else is there to dream about beyond capitalism? I am merely a spectator of the society of the spectacle.
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Forest and squirking machine
Ida Hiršenfelder
50°52'49.0"N 6°33'36.0"E
With distance, one could almost believe that the sounds of the machine are another species. Birds do it well, adapting to a new space.
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Deep forest (morining)
Ida Hiršenfelder
50°52'48.0"N 6°33'06.0"E
Everything that dies brings life.
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Close Encounters and Doves daytime)
Ida Hiršenfelder
50°52'32.0"N 6°33'27.0"E
The pressure of the machine is tangible, while the forest glistens in the evening light.
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Diversity (daytime)
Ida Hiršenfelder
50°52'51.0"N 6°33'49.0"E
It's a diversity party and everyone is invited treecreeper, goldfinch, spotted flycatcher, nuthatch, great tit, wren, chaffinch, woodpacher, robin and an odd squirl.
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Chatty Blackbird and Machine Pressure
Ida Hiršenfelder
50°52'18.0"N 6°34'08.0"E
Deep in the forest, time runs slower. The wind and anthropogenic sounds mix.
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Cricets and Flock of Ducks (dusk)
Ida Hiršenfelder
50°52'37.0"N 6°32'50.0"E
We're creatures of habit, threading old beaten paths, going back home if you can find it in the dark
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Forest Edge (dusk)
Ida Hiršenfelder
50°52'32.0"N 6°34'07.0"E
The evening is serene at the forest's edge. The forest belongs to those who live in it. Yet the monster lurks a short walk north of here.
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Canopies: Dusk
50°52'47.0"N 6°33'38.0"E
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Canopies: Dawn
50°52'56.0"N 6°33'26.0"E
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Canopies: Dizzy
50°52'36.0"N 6°33'38.0"E
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Displaced
50°53'02.5"N 6°34'13.0"E
Elsewhere is here.
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Stalks
50°53'12.6"N 6°34'19.3"E
A gentle and precise network.
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Complexity
50°52'41.0"N 6°33'26.0"E
Time heals all wounds.
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Standing
50°53'05.1"N 6°34'25.2"E
Settling down with memory. What do trees communicate with each other?
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Pleasure
50°52'49.0"N 6°33'44.0"E
There is no purpose in struggle without beauty.
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For
50°53'09.0"N 6°34'39.7"E
All this seems almost surreal.
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Roots
50°52'41.0"N 6°33'27.0"E
Old roots run deeply.
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Frog
50°52'57.0"N 6°33'53.0"E
Tiny things are hard to miss for those who listen.
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Yours
50°52'55.9"N 6°34'04.3"E
Leaves appear under light.
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Translucency
50°52'56.0"N 6°33'58.0"E
Light appears under leaves.
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Memoria
50°53'14.6"N 6°34'26.8"E
The sensation of a forgotten memory.
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Equilibrium
50°53'18.2"N 6°34'42.4"E
For directionality and flexibility of lines in context.
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Fragility
50°52'57.0"N 6°33'21.0"E
I wonder if the little nestling made it. So many birds die before fledging.
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Open
50°52'36.5"N 6°34'07.0"E
Always, again.
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Rays of Life
50°52'35.0"N 6°33'37.0"E
Interior suspension.
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Within
50°52'25.1"N 6°34'07.1"E
Exterior suspension.
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Without
50°53'05.0"N 6°34'17.0"E
Enchanting light of an early morning.
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Heights
50°53'01.7"N 6°34'28.9"E
The trees are a sanctuary, a refuge from the scorching sun and a hideout for the settlers. Their treehouses are still high in the canopies. Waiting.
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Nutrients
50°52'26.0"N 6°33'37.0"E
Morning dew. It has almost had me fooled into believing that it is a new beginning.
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Posture
50°53'13.6"N 6°34'22.4"E
The resilience of non-humans is a model.
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Calm
50°52'47.0"N 6°33'51.0"E
No straight lines.
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Centerness
50°52'52.4"N 6°33'40.0"E
As if an open space appeared. It almost has a scent.
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Strength
50°52'37.0"N 6°33'37.0"E
The strongest materials sometimes appear so fragile.
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Borders
50°52'59.4"N 6°34'42.9"E
This is a warzone.
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Striking
50°53'16.6"N 6°34'34.4"E
All struggles are ecosophical.
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Precipice
50°53'14.0"N 6°33'53.0"E
Nothing stops the wind here, and I can only think about dispossession and the many lives of others; tree colonies, insect colonies, boar families..., lost.
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Solidarity
50°52'49.0"N 6°33'42.0"E
Nothing stops the wind here, and I can only think about dispossession and the many lives of others; tree colonies, insect colonies, boar families..., lost. Strange how open-pit mines always carry the name of the very place they erased.