In The Valley, Flowers Remain

  • Dates
    2024 - Ongoing
  • Author
  • Topics Contemporary Issues, Documentary, Social Issues
  • Location Belgium, Belgium

For over thirty years Patrick has lived in De Vallei, 'The Valley', a long term psychiatric ward in the Belgian countryside. He walks the woods behind the ward and since 2024, I walk with him.

De Vallei, Dutch for The Valley, is home to 38 people living with chronic psychosis and schizophrenia. Most residents spend their entire adult lives here, carried by slowness, repetition and care. I did not come as a psychologist, not for diagnoses or treatment. I came to be together.

Patrick was the first person to welcome me when I got lost in the corridors. For over thirty years he has walked the woods behind the ward, carrying a folded letter from the royal household in his pocket. I followed him, from question to answer, from silence to wisdom. Through him, I learned that gentleness can be stronger than knowledge, and that vulnerability and resilience can exist side by side.

Sometimes I brought my camera, a gesture to say 'we are here'.

While Patrick remains a guiding presence, the series 'In the Valley, Flowers Remain' opens toward the lives of others in De Vallei. Images grew out of our encounters, inside the ward and across its surroundings: sharing shadow, grief, light and flowers.

Yet long term psychiatric care is now under pressure. In Belgium, reforms are reducing the number of long-term beds. Over the past twenty years, the number of chronic care beds has fallen by almost 40%. At the same time, stigma persists. Psychiatric hospitals are still seen as places of fear and misunderstanding. Residents tell me they carry the burden of being perceived as less than human, long after their diagnoses.

That is why, when Patrick asked again if he is still human, I took his hands and said: “You are the most human person I have ever met."

This project is a candidate for PhMuseum 2026 Photography Grant

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© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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Patrick (left) and another resident, K., walk together to the small supermarket near De Vallei. The sky is heavy and the cold settles in. K. holds onto Patrick’s arm and says ‘he is a little cold, as we all are.’ Patrick answers ‘only one feels the cold on the skin, another carries it within.’ Moments like this shape everyday life in the ward.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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In the garden of De Vallei, cigarette butts mix with the first flowers of spring. It is the place where residents gather between blossoms, snow and bare trees, smoking together in a circle. Traces remain in the soil, the only ground that feels steady.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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A portrait of Patrick (59). He knows the names of wildflowers, stamps his feet to call the rain, and says ‘sometimes I play God.’ He speaks with anger about the pills he takes because ‘a king does not take pills.’ I followed him from answer to question, from silence to wisdom, learning that strength and vulnerability live side by side.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Conversations with Patrick at the pond near the ward, his most favorite place in the world.
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Conversations with Patrick at the pond near the ward, his most favorite place in the world.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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On a sunny winter day, we stopped in the forest and lay down in the grass. Patrick spoke about his brother, gone for many years, and the pain that has stayed with him. When they walked on, I asked where the sheep were; ‘where it’s sensitive,’ he answered.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Two flowers in the garden of De Vallei.
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Two flowers in the garden of De Vallei.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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Two donkeys live close to the ward. Patrick always stops to greet Herman. Once he saved him, when he was stuck under a fence; ‘he remembers’ Patrick said, stroking the donkey’s nose.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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On a spring morning, Patrick taught me to dance beneath a canopy of trees, near the chapel of Jesus. We sang ‘La Solitudine’ by Laura Pausini, a song about being lonely together.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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Before we walk, Patrick takes his midday medication. He looks in the mirror and greets himself: ‘I am a man made of steel and rubber’. He points to the back of his head, where he often says that ‘seven bullets still remain’. As we walk, we talk about kings, and how everyone might once have been a tree.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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During an evening walk, we passed the greenhouse near the ward. The sun was setting, turning the plastic walls into a glowing screen. We stopped for a while and played with the light. The picture grew out of that small shared moment.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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On a warm spring day, we rest near the magnolia tree. It blooms for only two weeks each year. That day was the first time she came outside in months.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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Once a month, on a Friday evening, we read about culture. That night, Patrick and another resident read a reimagined Snow White. Patrick was the prince.

© Laura Anna Rossa - In May, it snows. Blossoms cover the ground, and everything goes silent.
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In May, it snows. Blossoms cover the ground, and everything goes silent.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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How long have you been here?” I asked. ‘Thirty-five years’ he answered. Silence followed. Then he laughed: ‘But I am still a bit human, right?’

© Laura Anna Rossa - A woman walking in the corridor of De Vallei.
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A woman walking in the corridor of De Vallei.

© Laura Anna Rossa - Image from the In The Valley, Flowers Remain photography project
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I climbed into the magnolia tree, my favorite tree around the ward. It was his birthday that day. We celebrated with pink donuts and six bottles of beer. He asked me not to climb any higher. He told me he lost his friend in the ocean while they were sailing. For two nights, he rowed alone, hearing his friend’s voice in the waves. You are now my best friend, he told me.

In The Valley, Flowers Remain by Laura Anna Rossa

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