One giraffe, standing apart, long neck lifted toward the sky. The shape is sharp, dark spots tracing patterns down its body. The ground beneath is dry, cracked in places, grass thin and scattered. It waits, or simply exists, alone in the open.
Far behind, zebras bend their heads to eat. They look small, distant, like moving shadows against the earth. Their stripes blur into the horizon, yet they give scale, showing how wide the space really is.
Above, the sky opens endlessly. Clouds stretch in soft lines, light falling gently across land and animal alike. Nothing is hurried here.
The picture holds quiet. It is not about action, but about space, about how one tall figure stands with a horizon full of smaller ones, all under the same open sky.
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