I wander on an imaginary planet made of rocks, water and ice, whose power brings us back to our condition. "You will return to Earth, because born from dust, you will become dust again". These places go beyond the landscapes traveled. They are deafeningly silent, vulnerable power. They have been, are and will remain whereas our existence is fragile and ephemeral. There is in front of me only the universe: space, time which seems infinite to me and matter. These bits of earth transport me to an Elsewhere which transcends me and which asks Pascal's question "What is a Man in the Infinite ?"