By a bucolic afternoon, quiet and shone upon, we are in a park, for a ballade in the boat and a turn of horse-gear. The nostalgia of a life of idleness is disturbed by the indiscreet and rythmée presence of the camera.
By a bucolic afternoon, quiet and shone upon, we are in a park, for a ballade in the boat and a turn of horse-gear. The nostalgia of a life of idleness is disturbed by the indiscreet and rythmée presence of the camera.