For whatever reason, the Balkan Peninsula has been a geopolitical watershed since, like, forever. Here, East meets West.
Fort Boiotro
The blue brown Danube
Happy endings and not so happy endings
A Bad Kohlgrub arrival
Go with the Flow
We walked the asphalt trail. The earth smelled wet and looked smudgy. The sky was indecisive. In one moment the rain dropped and veered, its trajectory altered by gusts of wind. A moment later, the muslin drapes of the sky were pulled back and sunlight shot through. It ricocheted off the wet sheen and illuminated the droplets clinging to leafless branches of the trees (that undoubtedly provided marvelous colors or welcome shade along the riverbank in other seasons of the year). These droplets transformed into diamonds for an instant, then the drapes curled and closed. The dance was over as suddenly as it started.