whistled language

No whistling in the rain

It’s just one village in a row of many, as one passes through this charming valley full of hazelnut orchards. A dead end no one would ever visit, save for some special reason. After a few kilometres we have to stop at a police checkpoint. A friendly officer asks for our passports and checks them […]

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Caucasus Mestia

Meeting Kairos

We find ourselves between lovely meadows crowded with cows in the lowlands near Chobi in Georgia. Preparing for sunset, dozens of frogs croak at their loudest. I wonder if the difference between their bass or treble sounds corresponds linearly to the size of their body, as is more or less the case with acoustic musical […]

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