La Reunion
writing & photography
The smell of a trampled guava is floating through the forest path, reminding me of the smell of apples of unwanted wild apple trees. The sound of the klaxons and barking of the village dogs echo in distance. Everything seems so familiar. Chirping birds, rocks painted with moss, tree roots twisting on the beaten pathways like a nest of snakes basking in the sun.
We slowly climb up the steep hill. The fallen foliage of wild fruit trees are gradually replaced with reddish needles and curved tamarind leaves. The smell is cooling down, the stones are turning dark. In alien forest I find my own memories.
Places distant, yet so close.