Et fouisse toujours on trouvera bien

At a moment

In the city of Liège

no wall is straight anymore

all surfaces crumble

soft horizons and twisted lines

It’s the general chaos

the great Mouse always flows

tinged by new alluvium

infused with the areas crossed upstream

nuclear flavor, Tihange fragrance

The paroxysm of troubled times is draped over all surroundings

epidemics of a new kind have wreaked havoc

exodus of survivors to the surrounding Ardennes hills

where they try to meet their needs autonomously

hardly anyone lives in what was once the Ardent City

And yet

these ruins crossed by the great river

remain a strategic rallying point

people gather for exchanges of goods and provisions

improvised markets are held there continuously

people come from more or less far away with almost what they have

they buy, trade, sell

there are those who offer their agricultural production, which develops as best as possible away from the river

there are those who specialize in the making of a particular tool

there are those who still find vintage preserves

and there are colorful stalls,

those of the scavengers

who, in the great mess

scrape, rake, and lift

hunt, gather, and fish

bits and bobs

little finds

surviving treasures

pieces of material to cut, shape, carve, assemble

spread side by side

and wait for passers-by, curious seekers

to leave on wheels

in pockets and pouches

on feet and in hands

along the faults