Some places are loudest when they're silent.
There's a particular kind of quiet that only exists in mountains at night, when the lifts have stopped moving, the trails are empty, and the peak stands exactly as it has for millennia, indifferent to the small structures humans built at its feet. This piece captures that stillness: bare trees and a dormant ski lift rendered as fragile silhouettes against a mountain of impossible scale, all beneath a sky scattered with stars. It's a reminder of how small our footprint really is against nature's and how beautiful that smallness can feel, if you let it.
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