In the soft light of a misty morning, this tree stands as a silent witness to the season passing. The air is dull and muted, as if the world waits for a moment in breathless silence. The leaves, deep red and rusty brown, still hang from the branches as a last reminder of summer's warmth. Many are already lying on the ground, scattered like a carpet covering the earth and spreading the scent of damp leaves and soil into the air.
The mist blurs the background, further detaching the tree from its surroundings. Behind it, the outlines of other trees fade away, as if they were mere shadows in a larger story. The grass is dark and saturated, shiny with dew, and each step would evoke the soft crunch of leaves.
This image is a moment of transition, a frozen breath between what was and what is to come. It carries the melancholy of impermanence, but also the beauty of letting go. In the stillness of the morning, the tree seems to tell its own story, a story about time, seasons and the quiet power of remaining standing no matter what changes.
Each photograph is a doorway to another world.
Maybe a world you recognise, maybe one you only discover as soon as you look at it.
Sometimes they are fragments of a memory that never really existed, sometimes a feeling you can't put into words.
In my photography, I search for..
Read more…