Bleached Ribbons, Montenegrin Roadcut

I found this one wedged into a crack in the rock face where a road crew had blasted through limestone — not a pole, not a post, just the mountain itself pressed into service. Three years of synthetic ribbon had gone almost white, the original reds and yellows surviving only in the folds where the sun couldn't reach. I came back twice before the overcast held long enough to let those ghost-colours speak without any glare flattening them further.