Moving Stones.
I go for a walk; I take a stone from the floor. It is not any special stone, it is just an stone, it becomes special since the moment I choose and carry it in my hand. At a certain point I put it in my pocket. I look to the landscape and forgot about the stone. When reaching the hill I put my hands on my pocket and find the stone, I put it under a tree. This stone has travelled with me from Uchisar (38° 38 ‘ 21,8″ N 34° 48 ‘ 07,5″ E) to 3 kilometres to the southwest (38° 37 ‘ 54,1″ N 34° 48 ‘ 23,5″ E)
Cappadox, 2015. Cappadocia Struck