Treatment Facility Barrandov

Rays of sunshine, rustling of birches, the smell of breeze... Openes, brightness, contact, with surroundings, nature, people. Passing by narrow birches whisperring to each other nicely, but they do not want me to know. I walk along side a solid plinth of the crooked building, reaching a recessed wall that leads me to the front door. Entering the interior with the feeling of still being outside. I sense them staring at me, my dear, familiar birches. Yet again we reconcile, and in that moment I realise they are the foundation of this place.