“A sentimental longing or wistful affection for a period in the past.”
“Yes, I was never its, but I guess I miss it.
The greenery, the wildness, the rusticness.
Full of life, full of inertia, full of transition.
All the foliage crumpled, all the moss rubbed, all the minerals stockpiled.
Under mischievous sunbeams, under shimmering droplets, under fairy-tale flakes.
Within hidden trails, within hidden panoramas, within hidden escapes.
A feeling of dread, a state of exhaustion, a sense of accomplishment.
Through loathed days, through yearned summers, through perished lustrums.
So conflicting, so immortalised, so gone.
You know, it was never mine, but I do miss it.”
Photos and words (except for definition on top) by Emilie F. Yaakaar. Pictures were taken in October 2019 in Gex (France), where the landscape reminded me of the place where I was born and where I grew up (the Basque Country). All Rights Reserved © 2020
