Pillars of Birch XVI

Between the birches, time bends. The sunlight, caught in the high branches, filters down in golden fragments, illuminating the masked figure as if it were part of the landscape itself.

Birch trees are symbols of renewal, of new beginnings. The expressionless mask is like an empty page—ready for whatever meaning the viewer brings to it. This is the beauty of the unseen, of the undefined.

“We do not remember days; we remember moments,” wrote Cesare Pavese. And this moment, poised between motion and stillness, between light and shadow, lingers long after the image fades.