The valley is settled between high mountains that shield it from the morning sun. That gives the strange blue light I was walking around in, taking careful steps making sure to stay on the path.
The reason was obvious, I could see several makeshift red flags standing in the field not far from the small group of tents. Each flag marked a spot where a landmine had triggered, a mean weapon that keeps on killing and wounding years after whatever conflict it was put there for.
The herders tried to lead their goats in front of themselves to make the mines go off, but the mechanism inside the hidden assassins is so devilishly made that it takes the weight of a grown up human to trigger them.
It has since been my image of utter desperation, when you willing to sacrifice your goats witch only source of income rather than being blown up yourself.
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