Clothes frozen on a laundry line.
A graveyard.
Three guys walking along the road.
A graveyard for Albanian martyrs.
A village.
Trees.
A barbed wire fence.
A village with hard-to-discern mountains in the background.
A cozy-looking home.
Snow.
The main street in front of my really, really, really loud mosque (however, the snow does deaden the roar of the morning call-to-prayer quite nicely).
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