Before you say a single thing

September 4th, 2014, 11am

It’s so quiet here, you’re starting to hear things. Like a fish breaking the water’s surface, trying to escape his predator (most probably a pike) in three, four frantic leaps. Or that animal (most probably a fox) which comes at night to forage around the house for food, scratching at the wooden walls, begging to come in for shelter which we dare not grant. The back roads we have for ourselves, so much so we tend to forget there might be other motorists at all. The sparkling light on uncounted lakes, dragonflies in perpetual aerial acrobatics, mushroom filled forests: all of this could well be a dream, but there are pics, so it did happen.


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Marcus Hammerschmitt

Writer, journalist and photographer. Eighteen books so far, on paper and on screen. My biography is boring, my life is not.

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