Sunlight glints off Santiago de Cuba’s rooftops, casting sharp shadows across the bustling streets below. Palm trees sway against a vivid sky, their fronds brushing the horizon. The city hums with life, its energy trapped between sea and mountains in a single, breathless moment.
A girl pauses on the wooden stile, her dress catching the breeze. The fields stretch beyond her, golden and endless. For a moment, she’s neither here nor there—just balanced between two worlds, one foot still lingering in childhood.
A lone red schoolhouse stands against the muted greens of a rural landscape. The weathered wood and simple shape suggest quiet days of chalk dust and recitations, a humble outpost of learning in the open countryside. No children play outside—just stillness, and the faint echo of lessons past.
A lone boy sits in a weathered boat, his gaze lost in the shimmering expanse of the sea.
A playful beachside encounter, charged with unspoken tension and the restless energy of the sea.
A tense woodland scene where two figures pause, their quiet exchange shattered by an unseen disturbance.
A solitary elderly woman gathers firewood in a stark landscape, her quiet labor rendered with raw honesty and quiet dignity.
A young woman lost in thought by a sunlit window, where light and shadow weave a moment of quiet contemplation.
A flickering campfire lights up the night, casting shadows on two figures lost in the quiet embrace of the wilderness.