Yandina - 1211

In the quiet hinterland of Yandina, where the land lies low and the air holds the scent of rain, water settles across open fields like glass. Trees, still and unbothered, rise from the flood as if emerging from a dream—reflected perfectly in the mirror below, doubled in form and meaning.

Captured in a moment of rare stillness, this photograph speaks not of chaos, but of calm after the storm. The flooded ground does not drown—it reveals. It softens the hard lines of the world and invites us to see again, not just what is, but what could be. Each tree becomes a brushstroke, each reflection a quiet echo of resilience and grace.

This is not just a landscape—it is a meditation. A scene where time slows, where the everyday becomes extraordinary through light, water, and silence. The flooded field holds no urgency. It simply exists, open to the sky, asking nothing but your attention.

Ideal for spaces that call for reflection, this piece offers more than beauty—it offers a shift in perspective. It is a visual breath, a reminder that even in overflow, there can be balance. That stillness can arrive unexpectedly, and in its presence, we find clarity.

A portrait of peace in motionless form. A mirror of nature, and perhaps of ourselves.