On a misty morning, somewhere deep in the heart of the Dwingelderveld in Drenthe, a lone tree stands like a sentinel in the landscape. The air is still and heavy with moisture; a mysterious veil of mist hangs like a curtain over the moors and fens. In this hushed moment, the world seems to be holding its breath. Everything breathes peace, a soft melancholy, almost as if time has forgotten itself.
The tree with its characteristic crooked trunk and broad crown resembles a silhouette from the African Serengeti. As if waiting for the sun to rise, for something ancient and sacred to awaken. The brown tones of the grass, the bare trees in the background and the soft light give the scene an almost picturesque atmosphere. Here, you only hear the rustling of the wind through dry blades of grass and the distant call of a bird.
This is a place where the soul comes to rest. Where nature whispers that it is good to stand still. To look. And just to be.