Here is the village where my father ,my mother and I were born.

Here is the village where my father , my grandfather , my grandfather’s grandfather , my mother and I were born.Kıbrıscık is a small villiage of Bolu , in Turkey.My villiage where people migrate to big cities throughout the Time with old wooden houses , old people and everything old within-self.Population is around 2000 and age average is too high.In here , wood becomes the tree you rest under , the shelter which protects you from rain , your heart and home , the cradle you sleep your baby , the fence you protect your garden , the walking stick you use when you old , the wood you burn to warm in your house , the stairs you walk , the bridge which connects two side of the river , to table you eat on , the chair you sit and the haft to your knife.Sometimes it becomes the whistle made from willow by the Grandfather.The barrel you store your oil and cheese.It becomes the everything about life.
I took this photograph at 19.05.2016 while in a trip to memorialize past and because of my homesickness.The houses which challenges time over 100 years with standing still and becomes shelter to people.I wish ıt preserves for generations…