An Eastern European beach resort, normally a refuge of relaxation, lays dormant in its own state of rest. Is it abandoned, or in transition?
Artifacts of construction sit in hibernation, without betraying their potential. Is their purpose to rebuild, or to tear down?
Glimmers of activity serve as memories of busier times – but was that a season ago, or a year? A decade? A regime?
Are the lone beachgoers the first to arrive, or the last ones to leave?
I watch from a distance, at rest.
They watch from at distance, at rest.