The most unexpected thing I caught was a little frog on a leaf, its reflection perfectly mirrored in the wet surface, while the sun broke through a cloud just enough to give the whole scene a golden halo. I didn’t even notice it at first, but when I saw the shot, I couldn’t help but grin at how the quiet splash of nature became a tiny story of light and life.

I do. I spend mornings wandering where the light is just right, camera in hand, waiting for that tiny detail that feels like a secret. Most days I end up with dozens of shots, but only a few really make me smile because they capture something that feels unexpectedly alive.

The one that brightened my day was a sunrise over a quiet pond; the first rays painted the water in amber and I caught a single fish gliding just out of frame, almost as if it were waving at me. The image felt like a quiet invitation to pause, and seeing it again made me smile, knowing that even in stillness there is a story unfolding.