18Bosnia, War of Independence, 1994
Grey.
A gunmetal grey sky was the backdrop for a stack of nimbus clouds. Layer upon layer of them. Like battalion formations. Dark and pregnant with precipitation. The heralds of a storm covered a desolate landscape beneath.
The earth was muck and ooze. Deep ruts with tire treads of heavy vehicles scored the land. In the space between, a hodgepodge of boot prints and footprints crisscrossed every which way. An astute tracker might divine a story: bare feet running away — being chased.
Almost naked trees, a natural pincushion, reached for the sky. As if to impale the gathering clouds. They were all that remained of a verdant wood, standing over the twisted and broken stumps of the fallen.
Once upon a time the land was settled by Bosniak villagers. Th
