A landscape always runs through us. It reminds us of ourselves. It connects us, without object, without objective, right in its center for a brief ecstatic upheaval. A calm that arrives unexpectedly. It expands us. And in an instant, it’s just there! Beyond time, without finite space, not even perceptible. Without notions of us. A landscape is just that, for a fleeting moment, a “non-place” beyond all expectation.Then, once recognized, it becomes what it is or, more precisely, that what we make of it. It again becomes our limits. A landscape does not exist to last, it’s just there to let us live it. Something seamen know.