Editor’s letter It’s an invisible net, capturing both short jaunts and extensive journeys in its mesh. Come gather the memory of a swim, in this shadowy lake at the base of the mountain. Stash a taste of cherry in some forgotten place, to warm up your winter; or the rustling of a giant tree, besieged with peals of laughter. From the top of the peak, the valleys rise up and fall. We are so alone; we are so great in number. Aude Revier Postcard by François Ollivier His first profession as a theater lighting designer honed his eye. Today, improvising with his Nikon fuels his creativity. This month, a nod to the fairground in Lorient, during the Festival Interceltique—happy, or less so, their shouts barely perceptible. 8