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Winter in Ré Major
Photography by Claudine Boeglin
L’Île de Ré, feet in the Atlantic, a bridge-hyphen linking the French island to the mainland, has since the 1990s been secretive and preserved, an enclave of elegance where wealth hides without ostentation. The heritage of a fishermen’s territory, still renowned for its salt and wine, has served as a template to restore and build within a coherent grid of style and color theme.
Meanwhile, nature is the naughty one, stretching over walls without asking permission. Here, a snake-like shrub plunges over a wall into private property; there, climbing plants wrap around cables and pipes. In the heart of winter, the villages are silent, stripped of people, apart from a few permanent residents walking their dogs through ghostlike streets, sealed shutters and carefree. It’s hard to imagine what this coherent architecture and its pristine white houses look like when invaded in the heat of summer.
On beaches —impeccably combed, the low tides bring back microplastics rolled around shells. Only the deposits of the ocean remind us which century we live in and what our industrial and human behavior pose as a threat to nature. At Laurent’s house, African ancestors—once soul ferrymen—gaze at us, pouting.
Photography Claudine Boeglin @dandyvagabond
Photography Claudine Boeglin
