The only witness of being near the sea was a scent of salt carried with the fresh wind of night …
We parked in front of a small local shop in the village of Vadu which in the morning rise of a sun reminded me so much of some old Spanish provincial and abandoned towns, that wild flamenco of gypsies entered my ears and filled my soul with both wilderness and sorrow.
A village was empty, people were asleep. The only awaken creatures were storks feeding their youngsters and thus maintaining the silence of a village. The same was not true for geese. Walking down the dusty street in the tight group they were as like discussing wild dreams they had over the night, competing in which one is going to tell it faster and loudlier. Even though it wasn’t their intention nor wish, their passionate discussion woke up the human dwellers.
Walking down the narrow, long and straight road, eyes rested on the yellow fields of wheat. Every now and then a red poppy would appear, creating the image both more real and majestic. In the distance, where fields ended and converted into dried meadow shepherd with his sheep appeared. With his long wooden stick, he scared a flock of black crows, which then covered in their flight a blue sky over the field of wheat.
Finally, sand…and view on the waves of the Black sea. Caught between military base and refinery, Corbu beach, struggled to give people what belonged to them: rest and peace. Cold and wild waves of Black sea making an endless line of the most unique shells which testify of abundant life that takes place in its, what appears at first glance, merciless waters.
Paysage that makes you wonder about everything we think we know and everything we will never know. …
photographies: Aleksandar Mazzora