For the time being I read James Kalb, as history has come to an end with the end of tradition. I still try to catch some fragments of what here were with the sensor of my camera, before they blow away with the wind. If this is for any good, I don't know?
The images below I first rejected, but then watched them again today, as it was raining. They are edited in Capture One, which I still barely understand. They are from the farm of the Apostel of the Totenåsen Hills. With him traditions became very strong. Now all lost. And with them the purpose of living here.
Probably the land of my ancestors and their gift to us are gone forever.
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