In the heart of a quiet, humble nature, among mountains that have stood tall for centuries, Mani stood. My son. With a kind of dignity that only belongs to dreamful teenagers. The day was slightly cloudy—not rainy, not sunny—just a calm gray that spread across the mountains and gave a poetic texture to the frames.
I chose to use only natural light for this shoot. The soft overcast sky diffused the sunlight beautifully, eliminating harsh shadows or hotspots. It was perfect for what these photos needed: gentleness, continuity, and stillness. The ambient light gently highlighted Mani’s skin without any exaggeration.
He wore a simple white t-shirt and light jeans, standing in contrast with the dark mountain backdrop—becoming the brightest point in the landscape. I converted the images to black and white to focus purely on form, texture, and emotion.
One photo shows him gazing into the distance, expressing curiosity and thought. In another, he walks calmly toward the camera on a winding path, hinting at the unknown journey ahead.
This project wasn’t just about taking pictures. It was about capturing a moment of growth—a moment from that delicate, magnificent time of adolescence. Mani is simply himself in these photos: unmasked, unpretentious, unexplained.
And I? I was just there to hold that moment still—for him, for his future, for the day he wants to remember the silence between the mountains.
Sometimes, when I’m behind the camera, I stop trying to compose and simply listen. Not to capture a frame, but to hear the moment—the rustling grass beneath our feet, the wind passing through Mani’s curly hair, and the deep, meaningful silence between us. It was as if nature itself wanted to preserve that moment. The silence wasn’t empty; it was full of presence. My camera tried to honor it without altering or disturbing it.
At the end of the path, where the field opened up and met the base of the mountains, we took the final photos. Mani stood facing the direction where the sun was quietly rising behind the peaks. Even without direct sunlight, the ambient light gently touched his skin. Using the lens wide open at f/2.8 created a beautiful depth of field—soft and delicate—that separated him from the background, yet merged him with nature at the same time. That subtle contradiction is something I truly love: standing apart from nature, yet fully immersed in it.
| photographer | camera | lens |
|---|---|---|
 | sony a7 iii | 24_70 f 2.8 |