The yellow flamingo - Demolition and reconstruction of an oyster hut as a heritage site
In the heart of the oyster village of L'Herbe, they call me the yellow flamingo. In this place that seems out of time, here I am a hundred years old. Everyone knows me here, I can no longer count my film appearances. I balance on my frail concrete legs supporting the fragility of my wooden bones filled with pathologies that weaken me. The sea spray has not spared me since 1900. I sagged quietly but surely in front of the blue expanse that rises and falls before my eyes. Fortunately, I am included in the inventory of classified sites. On August 20, 2015, I was offered the chance for a resurrection. I rebuilt myself, identically. Only my concrete legs have been preserved. A wise and passionate gathering enables me today to stand proudly once again. Every 12 hours, the tide comes to caress my feet, but today I am finally calmly resting on the brown sand.