Again, a natural cycle, the fair sharing of a year, four seasons with different colours, four primary forms to establish a game. Cross the two equations and define possible paths for each moment, relevant places to support these choices. To begin with, summer. High altitude lakes, far away, accessible after long approach walks, perched, hidden, even invisible. And the color blue, the sky caressing the water of the lakes in mirror. Magical names left by distant pilgrims: Lake of the sirens, white lake, lake of the star, lake of the snake, lake of the nine colours. Then came autumn and its fiery forests, the red of the ash trees, the orange of the larches, sticks of fire roaming the heights of Boscodon. A 500 year old ancestor, several times struck by lightning, stands upright and watches over the valley. Then winter arrives, announcing the first snows that cover the sleeping valleys with white. The lakes have disappeared under thick ice. The paths become more uncertain, the fauna discreet, and the landscapes conceal secrets that only spring will be able to unveil. At last there it is, accompanied by unlikely greens, in an insolent light that illuminates the first shoots of the year. The wheat fields quiver in the breath of a wind, haru Ichiban: the Japanese define this south wind that announces spring.
Bertrand Desprez 2009