The old people might still remember the last of those ramshackle trucks covered in a thick coat of yellow dust, driven by strange individuals, sort of extra-terrestrials, themselves yellow from head to toe. From these disembodied figures, from the anger of mothers furious to see clothing covered in ochre, from the miner's sickness, silicosis, seen at the time as inevitable, there only seems to remain the skeletons of factories in ruin or a few quarries open to the skies which here and there, in shades of red and yellow, tear open the hillsides. Sculpted by storms, these former ochre deposiis today present an enchanting scenery which hybridize the intentions of Man and the wishes of Nature. Cliffs, earth pillars, ochre-coloured sand hillocks, after being dug out by shovels and picks, are henceforth shaped by the will of the winds and rain.