Pillars of Birch IV

A path stretches unseen beyond the trees. The masked figure, caught in the early spring sun, is both an observer and an invitation—an emblem of the journey ahead. There is no clear destination, only movement, only possibility.

The birches form a natural colonnade reminiscent of ancient ruins and forgotten cathedrals. “Nature alone is antique,” wrote Thomas Browne, “and the oldest art is a mushroom.” Among these organic pillars, there is age and renewal, an eternal rhythm of loss and rebirth.

This is a portrait of contemplation—where identity dissolves, and the self merges with the landscape.