
A lone woman stands by the lake’s edge, her reflection trembling in the water. The quiet ripples mirror her stillness, as if time hesitates around her. The trees lean in, whispering secrets to the wind. She doesn’t move—just watches, caught between the world and its watery twin.

Sunlight spills over a country lane, warming clusters of wildflowers. A woman in a straw hat bends to gather blossoms, her skirt brushing the fresh grass. The air hums with bees among the petals, and the path curves away into dappled shade. Spring’s quiet abundance unfolds here.