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cemetery of laeken, brussels.

the story of a marble worker evrard flignot who devastated by the death of his wife built a mausoleum for her. at first look inside, there is a mourner reaching out to an empty wall. but, once a year, on the day of the summer solstice, the sun draws a light that recalls this love for almost a century.

In the forest

"Outside, it was cool and still, the sky that hazy shade of white peculiar to autumn mornings, and the wicker chairs were drenched with dew. The hedges and the acres and acres of lawn were covered in a network of spider web that caught the dew in beads so that it glistened white as frost. Preparing for their journey south, the martins flapped and fretted in the eaves, and, from the blanket of mist hovering over the lake, I heard the harsh, lonely cry of the mallards."

- Donna Tartt, The Secret History (1992)