Lumină de Dimineață
I had walked since four in the morning to reach the ridge before the sun. The mist behaved like water, pooling between the hills, and for ninety seconds the whole valley turned to gold leaf. Then it was gone.
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Journal
A pilgrim keeps notes. These are the places, the waiting and the light — the stories that became prints.
Drumul Pelerinului
Forty kilometres in, the body stops arguing and the mind goes quiet. This stranger and I had not spoken a word in hours, yet we kept the same pace until the light failed.
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Marea Tăcută
There is a stillness above the circle that does not exist anywhere else. No waves, no wind, only the long blue breath of a sun that refuses to set.
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Praf de Stele
At 2,400 metres the air gives up its secrets. I left the shutter open and listened to the silence while the galaxy wheeled overhead.
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Fereastra Veche
Some days the pilgrimage is only across a room. I waited for the wind to lift the linen and let the light do the rest.
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