Day 2
Saturday 4th of April 2026
The crane has arrived. His song cries through the morning mist. I walk past the stream into the open field where the power lines cut the sky. I don't like the power lines. They are ugly. But in the misty landscape accompanied with the crane's cry there's a melancholic beauty in the ugliness.
Photo: Traces of civilization (the power lines crossing the local village road)

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