Where the streets have no name

South of Graz, the countryside unfolds through unnamed roads, fields, and quiet horizons. During an evening ride, after turning back to reach home again, I come across this small roadside chapel standing alone at a fork: a silent landmark in a landscape where orientation seems to depend more on memory than on signs. A place beyond addresses and destinations, where roads are less about arriving somewhere and more about moving through space, light, and solitude. For a moment, the absence of names feels like a form of unexpected freedom.

I don't ask for more

Sailing on a sea of clouds

Xmas Lights - I

So little

AnneStraße

Sunset at Radkersburg

Under the Bridge

True Colors

Riding in the Pampa

Blue on Blue

End of October '22

The hares' road

Riverside Blues

Red Cells in the Sky