If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.
In several emails written during my recent trip to the Balkans, I tried to communicate the color of the Adriatic Sea and despite using countless adjectives and modifiers, I never found the write expression to capture the deep, heavy blue of the Croatian coast. Nor could I define the incandescent humming blue-green of the Tara River Canyon cutting down from Sarajevo to Mostar or the depth of the graying fjords of Montenegro. So, stealing my post title from a David Foster Wallace essay, here are a sampling of photos from the Balkans and back again.
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