Close up of Palm leaves (Thrinax radiata)
Photo by Will Burrard-Lucas
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Morning broke with honest clarity over the cove as the sun climbed just enough to sift its light through the mist hanging to the towering cliffs. The water, evident in the way of tropical dreams, lapped against the gentle shore where the jungle, thick and seemingly ancient, held court over the sand. Tiny houses with palm-thatched roofs dotted the margin where land argued with sea—a silent testament to human touch in the vastness of nature.
A solitary dock reached out into the calm, a wooden finger pointing to the horizon, where the sea and the sky conspired in shades of blue. No boats were tied today. It was a day of rest, or a day of waiting—for the fish, the weather, the passage of time itself. The world was in no rush here. The palm leaves whispered secrets of the endless summer as they danced on the light breeze, a subtle reminder of movement in the stillness.
In this corner of the world, life was less a series of events and more a continual present, an expanse of 'now' that demanded nothing but to be acknowledged, a place where yesterday's struggles were as transient as the evening tide. Here, existence was its purpose, and the minutes were not counted but lived, one soft wave upon the sand at a time.
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doodled my flamingo guy ive been bouncing around in my mind
clip studio paint
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Had to share this @WeHeartIt
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Good night✨
Photo palm leaves, night on the beach.
Night on the ocean, Sri Lanka
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