A slope of green runs down to the coast, where waves strike against dark rocks. On the rise above, a man in a pale shirt stands with his hand in his pocket. He does not face the camera, but turns towards the light, as though the sea holds an answer he wants.
Every colour is sharp: the grass almost glowing, the shirt bright as sky, the shadows deep at his side. The breeze moves the stems of grass in front, brushing soft lines across the frame.
The longer one looks, the less it feels like a portrait. He becomes part of the scenery, his outline one more edge among water, stone, and field. Stillness here is not empty; it is its own form of presence.
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