In winter, I tried to find this little bridge, but I was distracted by very bright light pillars. In summer, I found... well, just a little bridge, and that’s it. Fog as fog... field as field. The Pochenga river is generally like a swamp: there is no current, it's all in some kind of unsightly mud...
But what’s wrong with these places? Every time I visit here, I leave in some kind of strange state.
There’s some kind of anomalous zone here. I thought it was connected to my past, and I’m connecting to it.
But no, this place is completely different; I’m here for the first time, and it has nothing to do with the past.
Every time I take photos from these regions, I only take a few, but they’re filled with some special vibe.
I would to somehow get to the reservoir on the Pochenga River.
Starting this spring (or even since last summer), I’ve been trying, both mentally and physically, to get to the village of Pochenga itself to take some photos…I’ve even been there…but so far, it hasn’t worked out.
Ok. I’ll explore these parts more than once.
