In the 1960s, at the cottage, there were days that became memories without us even knowing it.

We could hear the car coming long before we saw it. The crunching gravel, the purring engine…

And everyone knew: he was there.

His red Ford shone like something from another world,

Too beautiful for her rank, too proud to remain discreet.

So we went out.

We were already laughing for no reason.

And as always, he eventually gave in.

"Go ahead, get in."

The little sister-in-law climbed up without hesitation, proud as if the roof had become a stage just for her.

We adjusted our pose, we held our breath, as if this moment mattered more than any other.

The click of the device was almost imperceptible.

But what we were capturing, without knowing it,

It wasn't just a car, nor was it a pose.

It was summer.

Freedom.

And this simple way of being together,

who would never return quite the same.

Acrylic on canvas gallery

10" x 10" one