The photograph was taken in the mountainous village of Platanos on the Greek island of Samos in the Aegean Sea. It is a village surrounded by red soil sources. In the past the inhabitants used to paint their houses red in the summer months, so it was almost invisible from far away, as it was becoming one with the ground. Yet, in autumn when it started raining, the soil washed off from the houses and the village's houses were visible again.

I find it beautiful because it combines all earthy elements (wood, stone, soil) with traditional architecture and the sunset is just additional luxury!

– Lena Stefanou

The picture was taken in the Gari village, mountain Bistra, National Park of Mavrovo in North Macedonia. The nature and atmosphere is spectacular and worth visiting. Each and every village in this region has its own architectural style, as well as village Gari.

What I like the most about this house and vernacular architecture in the Mavrovo National Park is that everything is made of natural materials that could be found in the surroundings. And everything is made to be functional for a family according to the conditions for life in this region – to be warm in winter, refreshing in summer. And the thing I liked the most is the fact that this house is so unique, unusual, like nothing else, completely made out from nature. Unfortunatelly, there are not many people that remained living here, maybe a dozen in the whole village.

– Daniel Medaroski

The long-forgotten landscape persistently defies the tooth of time and waits for a drop of sweat to fall on its shabby earth again.

– DRAGODID

Far away from a city where I live in, where people now are trapped in concrete flats, there is a small wooden hut, a shepherd’s shelter. It has been here for a while, but no one uses at this time. It could be a safe haven for someone, a comfort, a freedom from life in quarantine that we now are living in – in the days of virus that trapped us. This small cottage could be a dream to come back to, something that we, not so long ago, run away from.

– Natasa Nikolic

While we were crossing long and straight muddy road across the fields, we saw shapes of the ancient object that we were looking for. It was such a blessing moment, in the middle of nowhere, to spot a heard of deer jumping and running in the distance near the lonely building. It was so fantastic, that for a second it seemed as a dream: the low sunlight, animals and the remains of the monastery.

We wondered how it is possible for a whole settlement to disappear, who were the people and monks that once lived here, built here, had customs that we do not know noting of. The only witness of generations of people that formed a settlement called Araca are these bricks, formed in marvelous structure that is breathtaking, stunning and grievous in the same time.

But to be there and to feel the atmosphere and bread the clear air of times gone by and just about to grow plants in fields was freedom and pleasure that will remain in our memories.

– photos Tamara Markovic, text Milica Tanasijevic

No, no, it is not Tuscany, though the resemblance is undeniable. It is Istria, an astonishing peninsula that found a place in my heart long time ago. This piece of land is so thrilling that months are needed to travel around it. I enjoy it with my family every year fully. It is peaceful yet exciting with magnificent heritage colours and nature that give me thrills and sometimes I don’t know which way to look firstly. Oh my, just have to explore it again and again!

– Ivana Crnogorac

Is it real, or is it a place from fairytales, where fairies and elves dance and share wisdom of life among the clear sky? What is the secret of these old olive groves? Will we ever know?

How old are these trees and how old are these terraces built in dry-wall technique? This place is reminds me of everything that is good, of wisdom, love, dignity, beauty, persistence and hard work.

– Tatjana Koprivica

“I look and I realize: life is a gift; it is squandering my nights and days,

Those that you will not spend alone will be broken into pieces anyhow”,

Tarafah ibn al Abd’s rhyme floats through my mind while I hide from summer sun in the shade of the Painted Mosque and enjoy beautiful decorated walls.

– Aleksandar Elenin

The old gravestones at Ljuban, at the foot of the mountain Komovi are the silent witnesses of a life that once was led here – free shepherd’s life in the open grasslands. Very modest, but powerfully enchanted.

– Vlatko Bulatovic

Veli Iž is an island in Croatia with impressively rich heritage in drywalls. Particularly inspiring is the sightseeing of the dry-wall, which after the First World War, was built by gay from Veli Iž by the surname Marat. Unfortunately, very little is known about Marat because he did not leave direct descendants, and his living relatives and elderly locals do not even remember his baptismal names... but, as little as it is knows about him is enough to tell tragic and sad story about this man: Marat had a wife and a little daughter when he was recruited into the Austro-Hungarian army during the First World War. While he was in the battlefields his young daughter passed away, and his wife suffered a lot and ended her life in a mental hospital. Marat returned from the war without one hand ... and as people already know how to be cruel, they were found his nickname Single-handed... And, our Marat, this Single-handed, despite everything that touched him and despite his physical handicap, embraced the stone and built the best and most beautiful dry dry-walls ever constructed on this island... There has long been no Marat, but the most beautiful memories of him are the dry-walls that he left behind and which nobody has surpassed yet, and, let's not forget, the island of Veli Iž is full of all kinds of dry-walls...

...and these two gays are local craftsmen: Mirko Sutlovic (dry-wall craftsman) and Predrag Petrovic (pottery craftsman) - they are the only followers of the centuries-old tradition of these crafts here at the island of Iž, for the time being, until kids trained in our workshops grow up...

– Dragodid