The cursor moves across a digital map, leaving the coast to explore a uniformly blue sea, its restless movements evoking the wrench of exile. 30 years after her father fled Croatia, Karla Crnčević recuperates the videotapes he shot the day he returned to his village when the war was over – the only images he ever filmed. The father’s voice, in the present tense, accompanies the recordings of the devastation but, little by little, the two narratives, visual and audio, subtly begin to diverge. The film weaves itself into this discrepancy, like an essay on memory and archive, on memory as the incomplete process of recreation, on the surprising wild flowers emerging among the ruins of the past.